Red Planet: Invasion
by Captain Terra
Summary: The legend of the Biker Mice's beginnings, the Plutarkian Invasion and the events that have all lead up to our heroes landing on earth. Keep in mind I've been working on this epic for seven years now and it's still not complete. Finally somewhat ready for
1. Who's There?

Disclaimer: I do not own Biker Mice from Mars or any of it's characters. I make no profit.

James and Chaos are the property of Stoker1439 and I do not take credit for them.

All other fan characters belong to me.

Chapter 1: Who's There?

Throttle McCloud looked under the bush and saw past the tress into the field just beyond them. There were two young figures waiting for him. Vincent Van Wham and Modo Maverick stood in the middle of a long hay field, the star beginning to show up in the late evening sky.

"Hey bro," Throttle greeted, shaking the hand of the white mouse.

"Hey," Vinnie responded. Modo slapped him on the back.

"Hey, Throttle." he said.

"Vinnie," the tan mouse said, sitting down on the ground, taking a piece of grass between his lips. "You doin' okay?"

"Just fine, Throttle." he responded.

The tree laid down together, looking up at the new stars as they poked through the darkness of space.

"There are so many of them," observed Modo.

"Yeah," said Vinnie. "It's so cool."

Throttle grinned, the blade of grass moving slightly in his mouth. "There's Earth," he said, pointing to a star, far out in the east.

"I wonder if we'll ever go there?" wondered Vinnie.

"Oh, I doubt it." Modo said, laying his head onto his crossed arms.

"I don't know, bros, anything is possible."

Modo laughed, and slugged Throttle's arm jokingly. "Yeah. Right."

Throttle shook his head and continued to gaze up at the star. The three of them continued to lay there for a few moments, when Vinnie spoke up.

"I wonder how many babes are out there."

"Vincent!" scolded Throttle half-heartedly.

"Well, I'm just wondering."

The trio laid there, when, suddenly, they heard a loud roar from the south. Vinnie sat up. "What is that?" he wondered.

"I don't know, bu whatever it is, it stinks!" Modo said, sitting up as well, his fingers pinching his nose.

Throttle looked up, only to see five fish-shaped vessels fly a "V" formation overhead. They tore above them, then disappeared into the sky behind them. They hundered away, shaking the ground.

"Whoa..." Vinnie muttered.

"Well, that can't be a good sign," Modo responded.

Throttle just looked silently as the five ships faded into the distance. "No," he said softly, "it can't."

"President Dorlin," said the secretary as she peeked warily into his office. "Sir, a General Dominic T. Stilton to see you."

President Dorlin looked up from his desk and folded his hands, then rested them against his chin.

Dorlin sighed and stood up, walking next to her. "Show him in." he said slowly.

"Mr. President...should I double security?" she asked quietly. There was a definite nervous feel to her as she spoke.

"There's no reason, Ms. Catalina. I'm familiar with General Stilton. There should be no trouble," he said.

Reluctantly the secretary retreated.

A moment later an alien, who appeared to be a fish, and dressed in very colonial garb entered the President's office. The alien fish brought with him a deep sense of aggressiveness and dominance. Dorlin, at first, was put back by this, being the leader of the Martian government. The aura that this alien brought with him was very...difficult to deal with. But Dorlin recalled the agreement he and this man had made. A pact made in blood.

"Dorlin," the man said with a snarl appearing upon his lips. The alien gave off a sense of refinement and self-awareness mostly found in high society.

"Stilton. You're early." Dorlin said, his eyes looking over the alien.

"I like to be punctual, Mr. Dorlin. It's tacky to be late," Stilton replied, dusting off a chair with a handkerchief from his sleeve before seating himself. Dorlin snarled a bit.

"You have the item in question?" Dorlin asked, eyes darting across the room to make sure that door was perfectly closed.

Stilton smiled a wicked smile and carefully pulled a leather briefcase bound in gold and gently placed it on the desk. "Why, Mr. President, would you have expected any less?"

Dorlin peeked inside the case as a smile spread across his face. "Excellent. Then you'll begin operations?"

"Immediately," Stilton said wickedly.

Three months later...

The doors to the courthouse swung open with force as the Defendant and his attorney stepped out into a crowd of news reporters. They immediately swarmed around the pair, snapping photos and bombarding them with questions.

"Mr. Kent! Excuse me, Mr. Kent!" one reporter shouted to the finely dressed man who swaggered down the steps of the courthouse, followed quickly by his lawyer, Mrs. Relena Van Wham.

"No questions, _please_," he snarled to the press as he jumped into his limo and drove off, leaving Relena standing there. Her lips pursed as the limo sped off. For everything she did for Mr. Kent, he sure was quick in blowing her off.

"Mrs. Van Wham! How about an interview?" a reporter asked then turning to her.

"Please," she said, "it's _Ms._ Van Wham." her demeanor was tough and thick. She was a no-nonsense woman that wanted nothing more than truth and clarity.

The reported nodded. "Of course," he said quickly, slightly taken aback. "So, how do you feel about winning the case?"

"It's a feeling of accomplishment to have served justice," she said proudly. "Getting Mr. Kent out of that lawsuit was one of the biggest accomplishments of my career. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Just then, the ground shook violently and they heard loud explosions. Relena was knocked off her feet and landed hard on her butt. She pushed her short orange hair out of her eyes and then straightened her skirt and blouse. "Damn construction workers," she grumbled irately.

A few more reporters followed her as she went towards her car, but she ignored them and just stepped inside. _"Damn,"_ she thought suddenly, _" I have to pick up that brat Vincent from the Mall I dropped his off at. Oh, damn you Howard, why did you ever get me pregnant...?"_

Meanwhile, in a less populated part of Hellfire, two young mice were riding along merrily on a motorcycle, singing loudly and off key to the tune of "We Will Rock You" as they drove through the open plains (which were quickly turning to concrete) heading towards the Mall.

"Hey Modo! Do you think you could turn it down, I'm losing my hearing back here!" Modo's little passenger cried as she clamped her hands over her large ears.

"Huh? What did you say?" Modo shouted in his booming voice, a deep baritone already at only sixteen, over the radio.

"I said TURN IT DOWN!" Bingo screamed.

"I can't hear you! Let me turn the radio down!" Modo called over his shoulder as he flipped the dial on his radio to off. "Now, what did you say, Bing'?" he asked looking back at her again.

Bingo smiled wearily. "Never mind." she sighed, patting him on the shoulder.

"Okay, suit yourself." The big grey-furred mouse shrugged.

Bingo Ritz, as was her name, was the newest member of our trio of young friends. Not to mention the only girl. Not that it mattered much, as young Bingo was very much a tomboy.

"Are we almost there yet?" Bingo asked, pushing her short bright red spiky hair out her bright blue eyes.

"Will be soon enough. About ten more minutes." Modo assured her as he made a sharp right turn, nearly throwing her from her seat behind him. Modo wrapped his tail securely around her waist and pulled her safely back on. "Sorry about that, little bro." he said grinning.

"Yeah, I bet you are." Bingo sneered, standing up so she could give him a nuggy.

"Ow! Hey, watch it Bing'! I'm tryin' ta drive!" Modo giggled, swerving a little. The big grey teenager grinned up affectionately at his younger "bro", bright red eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, _trying_. Come on Modo! We've been driving for over an hour! We should have been there by now! I want to see Vinnie. You know he's probably bored out his mind. And besides, my butt is going numb." she complained.

"Well, I'm sorry little bro, but you're the one that wanted to take the scenic route." Modo shrugged.

"I wish something interesting would happen." she pouted.

"Well then, let's take a short cut!"

After finally arriving at the Mall, Modo and Bingo found themselves face-to-face with Vinnie and Throttle.

"Throttle, bro, I wasn't expecting to see you here!" Modo called, slapping him a high-five as the greeted each other.

"My parents wanted to pick up some new toys for the brat," Throttle told them, motioning over to a toy store within the shopping center. Throttle sighed, feeling neglected by his parents. All of their attention seemed diverted towards his younger brother, Smoke.

"Vincent!" a sharp voice cried out. Vinnie looked up and his face immediately fell at the sight of his mother.

"Oh, hi mom." Vinnie attempted meekly.

"Hi, Ms. Van Wham." Throttle said, as Modo and Bingo echoed him.

"Hello children," she replied with a sort of snarl in her voice. They all took one _giant_ step backwards. "Vincent, it's time to go home."

"Aw, but Mom," Vinnie started to protest. But then he saw the look in his mother's eyes. She had just won a very big case and her ego was huge. She would not let some punk kid–even if it were her own son–demean her authority.

"Relena?" a female voice came from behind her.

Relena spun around. "Jewel!" she gasped.

A sandy brown female with long wavy blonde hair and deep blue eyes in a green dress stepped over to her. She was carrying a couple of bags. Throttle suddenly felt very happy to see his mother.

"Mom!" he said brightly. He got up and rushed passed Relena and threw his arms around his mother, hugging her quickly.

Vinnie looked at them sadly. His mother would never allow such a public display of affection. A bitter frown ghosted across the youth's face.

"Now, Throttle sweetie, I'm glad to see you too, but my arms are full." Jewel said, trying to pry her son off her.

"Haha! Momma's boy!" Vinnie laughed, pointing at Throttle.

This comment resulted in a bump on the head from Modo. "There's nothing wrong with showing your mama the love that she deserves. Isn't that right, Mrs. McCloud?"

Jewel smiled at the young grey mouse. "For some reason, Modo, I'm not surprised to hear you say that."

"Mama knows bests, ma'am."

"Speaking of which," began Jewel, turning to Relena. "How was your case, Relena? Did you win?"

Relena straightened herself. "Of course I did, dear. The Prosecution was nothing."

"That's great. Really," Jewel returned with a wide smile. Bingo couldn't help but notice that Mrs. McCloud's smile did not seem very genuine.

"So, are you guys having anything special tonight to celebrate this big win?" asked Jewel, still warm and smiling at Relena.

"No," muttered Relena. "I'll just have Jessica pop in one of those Hamburger Helper dinners that she and her brother like so much."

In truth Vinnie hated those things, as did his twin sister, Jessica.

"Oh," replied Jewel with a bit of surprise in her voice. "Well, you can join us for dinner. I'm thinking about making chili or stew."

"No thank you, Jewel."

"Talking business, ladies?" asked a familiar male voice. Axle appeared then, pushing a stroller with Smoke inside. "Hello, Relena. Good to see you again."

"Axle," Relena answered curtly. She eyed Smoke. "Is this your little one?"

"The one and only!" Axle cried, his heart all aflutter at the observance of his second born. He immediately pulled the young child out of his stroller and held him up proudly. "My precious little boy!"

Throttle suddenly sigh loudly and turned to his bros. "So, what are we doing standing around here? Lets go do something already!"

"We're going home now," Relena reminded her son. The McCloud's followed them outside, along with Bingo and Modo.

Just then, the roar of a motorcycle caught their attention. All of them looked up as a sky blue motorcycle flew across the pavement and came to a screeching halt in front of them.

Its driver was dressed in a green army pants with a beige shirt and green vest that was decorated with a shiny silver metal. His helmet covered his face, but you could see his long umber brown hair that hung a pony-tail down his back and the tow other dark brown locks that hung besides his ears and his chocolate brown fur.

He pulled off his helmet and shook his head, swinging his pony-tail around then smiled broadly at the young mice in front of him.

"Stoker!" Throttle, Modo, Vinnie, and Bingo screamed joyously.

"Hey there, little citizens!" he said getting off his bike and throwing out his arms as they all tackled him to the ground. "Ha ha ha! I'm glad to see you too, kiddies!" Stoker laughed.

He sat up, Throttle in a head-lock under one arm, Modo in the other, Vinnie suspended in mid-air by his tail and Bingo hanging off the back of him. "So here I am, just about to buy some new struts and here you are, my little boys." he said playfully.

Finally he released them and stood up to greet the parents. "Hello Jewel. Axle. Aw, and the littlest punk, Smoke. Hey big fella!"

Stoker leaned in close to Smoke. The baby mouse laughed and kicked the older Martian in the nose. Stoker actually reeled back from the kick.

"Strong kid," Axle told Stoker with a smile.

"No kidding," Stoker replied, rubbing his offended muzzle. "No sure if I want to baby-sit this guy."

"Why not? You'll baby-sit Vinnie," Relena suddenly purred to Stoker, who almost intentionally left her out of his greeting.

"Hello Relena," he said in return. "Just caught the news. I hear you got that turncoat off the hook."

"Mr. Kent is not a turncoat!" Relena snarled. "He did not sell any government information to the Plutarkians."

"Yeah, right. Listen here, Relena, the Plutarkians are no good. Sure, they promised to keep us safe. But if you haven't noticed 'dear,' all they've been doing is causing trouble!"

"Oh no," Relena cried, "not your whole 'Plutarkians are evil' speech again. I swear, Stoker, you're just a record that won't stop spinning. Conspiracies, aliens...I swear, you're no better than the kids."

"Why you no-good–"

"Easy Stoke," interrupted Axle. "Let's just pull back our claws, eh? There's no need for this sort of debate in front of the kids."

Bother Stoker and Relena consented, but still shot icicles at each other. "Relena," suggested Jewel, "you've obviously had a long day. How about Vinnie stay with us for awhile? He could spend the night."

"Yeah!" shouted Vinnie. "That would be great! Can I, Mom?"

Only because it would be one less kid for her to deal with all night, Relena relented. "Sure thing, Jewel. He's all yours. Please. Take him."

"Thanks Mom!"

Relena said her goodbyes and then walked off to her car. The group then made their way over to the McCloud's jeep.

"I don't think we're going to have enough room for everyone," Jewel sighed. "Sorry."

"That's okay guys," Stoker volunteered. "I'll take care of the wee ones."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah!" Stoker exclaimed. "It's been a long time since we've all been able to hang out together."

"Alright," Jewel began, "but just _be careful_!"

"We will Mom!"

As the McCloud's jeep disappeared from the parking lot, Vinnie turned to Stoker. "Hey, Stoke, do you mind if we stop by the store and pick up some junk food?"

"Well, sure. If you kids don't mind stopping at Jimmy's first." he said.

"You're gonna take us to a bar?" Bingo gasped.

"Cool." Modo, Throttle, and Vinnie replied in unison, already feeling really good about this idea.

Stoker laughed, "Not just any bar, boys. This bar belongs to my very best friend in the whole world. Have you met Jimmy before?" he asked.

They shrugged and shook their heads. "Then you're in for a real treat, baby bros." he said with a grin as he hopped onto his bike. "Lets Rock..." Stoker began. "...and RIDE!"

"I just love the way he says that." Throttle said smiling as he climbed on Modo's bike.

"Ditto."

It didn't take them long to reach the local tavern of town.

"Wow," all four young mice gasped.

"Hey, this is just the outside, kids. Lets go inside, shall we?" Stoker asked, helping Bingo down off his bike.

They stepped inside to view a slightly darkened room, with a large, well-stocked bar off the left side of them, and a mass of tables and booths in front of them. The place was mostly deserted, with only a few bar-flies to occupy it, all of whom were gathered around a big-screened T.V. in the back watching a football game.

"Jim! You here?" Stoker called ushering the youngsters in the door. He hadn't taken but three steps inside the place when suddenly a blonde-furred mouse leapt from the corner at him.

"STOKER!"

The blonde-furred man dove at the young mice's mentor and tackled him, throwing his arms tightly around him and swinging him around in circles.

"JIMMY!" Stoker gasped, barely able to breathe for the death-grip the other man had on him, but grinning all the time.

"What are you doing in this neck of the woods! How long has it been? A year maybe? Stoke, you look great!" Jimmy said excitedly as he sat the other man down again.

Jimmy, the apparent owner of the bar, stood at about Stoker's height, but slightly large build than the brown-furred mouse. He had long, unkempt blonde-hair that matched his fur, and a scraggly mustache and goatee that fit snugly around his seemingly endless grin. His bright red eyes mirrored the mirth in his smile, making him look younger than he was.

Stoker patted the other mouse on the back in a brotherly fashion. "It's good to see you too, James." he said.

"God, it ain't been the same around this place without ya!" Jimmy exclaimed.

"Of course not. I'm the main attraction aren't I?" Stoker said boastfully.

"Yeah, next to myself, Jimmy the love machine!" the blonde-mouse said with a wink.

"Still doing eight girls in one night, Jim?" Stoker asked, lowering his voice as though the boys would not be able to hear him.

"Yep. But I can't manage to get up at six the next morning anymore." Jimmy chuckled.

"Does he realize there are minors in the room?" Modo whispered.

"I think he thinks we don't understand." Throttle said with a smirk.

"Stay awhile, Stoke! Have a drink, on me." Jimmy said, slinging an arm around Stoker's shoulder.

"Love to Jim, really. But that's not why I'm here." Stoker said, seriousness entering his tone. The two mice exchanged glances, and Jimmy nodded, as if understanding some unspoken request between the two of them.

"Why don't you kids make yourself comfy, and I'll get you a couple root beers, eh?" Jim said, at last acknowledging the other members of the group.

They scrambled over to a large round table that sat across from the bar as Stoker and Jimmy made their way across the room.

"I don't suppose you saw the news today, Jim?" Stoker asked quietly to the other mouse as he ducked behind the bar.

"I did. Can't believe that bastard got off on a technicality." Jimmy grunted, pulling up a couple of bottles from the cooler.

"They always do, Jim. They always do." The chocolate furred Martian muttered cynically to his friend.

"Any more on the family he murdered?" Jimmy asked, glancing swiftly over at the kids to make sure they weren't overhearing the conversation.

"The wife plans to appeal, but I doubt she'll find a judge that isn't being paid off at his point. The Plutarkian's that hired him to do it have been granted diplomatic immunity, and they can't find any record of the documents he stole." Stoker snarled as Jimmy handed him his own bottle of root beer before heading back to the kids.

"What are you guys whispering about?" Throttle asked curiously.

"Old girlfriends, kid. Never you mind." Stoker said, ruffling Throttle hair and taking a long pull of his drink.

Jimmy's face suddenly brightened. "Speaking of which! Stay right there, Stoke!" The other man was gone in a flash, rounding the corner and heading up the stairs towards the upper level of the bar.

There was as a series of thuds and mutterings from upstairs and then suddenly Jimmy reappeared, dragging someone in tow. "Hey Stoke!" he called as he approached them.

Before Stoker could open his mouth to ask what the hell was going on, Jimmy shoved a young woman, clad only in a towel, right into him. "I got someone I'd like ya to meet! Her name's Chaos!"

"JIMMY!" the girl cried as she slammed into Stoker's chest, nearly losing her towel in the process, and tripping over a discarded bottle.

Stoker caught her as she fell and held her up. "Isn't she supposed to jump out of a cake or something?" Vinnie snickered to his bros.

The brown-furred mouse help her to her feet. "You know," he said twirling her around as if they were dancing and setting her down on one of the bar stools, "I can think of about ten other ways–" he pulled off his vest and draped It over her shoulders, "–for you to get my attention." he finished with a smile.

Chaos could only stare at him for a moment, then blushed deeply under her fur and pushed back a lock of nut-brown hair.

"Thanks." she murmured.

Jimmy smiled idiotically as the teenaged boys stared at the half-naked white-furred girl.

"Oh mama." Modo said blushing, covering Vinnie's eyes, who yelled in protest.

"So what d'ya think, Stoke?" Jimmy asked expectantly.

"I think she's going to kill you." Stoker answered honestly, looking back at his friend.

"Yeah, probably. Anyway, Stoker, this is Chaos McKlash." the blonde mouse introduced.

Stoker took Chaos's hand and kissed it lightly, making Chaos blush brighter. "My pleasure, Chaos." he said debonairly.

"How does he do that?" Throttle wondered aloud.

"I don't know, but it looks like it works." Modo nodded knowingly.

"Jimmy, I'm going to murder you!" Chaos cried then, turning to glare at the other Martian.

"Aw come on, Chaos! I haven't seen Stoke in a while! Just let me pimp you out for one night..." Jimmy begged.

The white-furred female made to give him a hard left-hook in the face. As Chaos tried to seek well-deserved restitution upon his friend, Stoker looked her over carefully.

She was very thin, but with some muscle on her. Whether that was by life-style or vanity Stoker didn't know, but she certainly had a nice shape to her. A little less curvy then some of the girls Stoker had seen of late, but that didn't make her any less attractive. Her stark-white fur was made even more striking by the dark brown hair that hung around her chin in a short-bob cut, and when she looked in his direction, he realized that she had the biggest green eyes he'd ever seen.

"Wow." Stoker let himself say aloud, though no one heard him. _"Jimmy's sleeping with her? She sure looks different from his usual breed of women. She sure is cute though..."_ he thought inwardly.

Having made Jimmy understand just how pissed she was at him, as the poor mouse was now lying on the ground rubbing his head, she turned and looked back at their guest.

"I'm sorry to be so rude, but Jimmy yanked me out of the shower." she said, casting an icy glare at the man on the floor. "So what brings you here?"

"Business," Stoker answered, watching as Jimmy made his way to his feet. "And...pleasure." he added, smiling a bit at Chaos.

"Smooooth." Bingo said rolling her eyes.

Chaos noticed them then. "Oh! You must be Cherry!" she said.

Stoker choked on the gulp of root beer, and Jimmy's eyes widened.

"Cherry?" Bingo said, raising an eyebrow. "Who's Cherry?" she asked.

"My daughter." Stoker said grimly.

The young mice's eyes widened. "You have a daughter?" Throttle asked incredulously.

"How come we've never seen her?" Vinnie demanded curiously. "We've been over to your house tons of times!"

A glazed look entered Stoker's green eyes as he looked between the children and the woman who were all looking at him for an explanation.

"You've never seen her, because she's dead." he answered in flat, serious tone.

"Oh my...I'm sorry. Jimmy was showing me some old pictures of you and your family, but I didn't know." Chaos stuttered, quiet mortified.

Stoker finished off his drink in one long gulp. "Not your fault, darlin'." he said. "But I think I'd best be getting these kids back home, before their mothers skin me and hang my pelt out to dry." he said.

He moved towards the door, picking up his helmet from the table, the kids obediently following after.

"Aw, Stoke, don't go away like this..." Jimmy said moving towards him then, looking worried.

Stoker smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder. "No worries, Jim. I'll be back later, promise. Just gotta get these kids home safe." he answered.

Jimmy nodded in understanding.

Chaos came up beside him then, "Oh, here..." she said, handing him his vest, which was slightly damp now.

Stoker took it with a smile. "Thanks, beautiful. I hope I'll see you tonight too?" he asked.

"Sure will, I'm Jimmy's waitress." she answered.

"Great. Later then," Stoker nodded, ushering the kids back out the door from whence they came.

"Ride free, citizens!' The brown-furred mouse waved as he stepped out after them.


	2. All the World's A Stage

Dislciamer: Same as first chapter. Don't own anything except the plot and my few fan characters.

Also I forgot to mention that Bingo is also one of Stoke's characters. So now I've mentioned it. Hope you're enjoying the fruits of my extremely long labor!

Chapter 2: All The World's A Stage

Laughter poured out from the McCloud household as Vincent, Throttle, Modo, and Bingo began their sleep-over festivities. It was late, a little too late for these kids to be up. Oh, Jewel and Axle knew this, but despite their constant badgering to the kids that it was far too late, they rebelled and continued their all-night laugh-a-thon.

Jewel heard them laughing in the next room, and grinned, moving a bit closer to Axle, putting her head on his furry chest.

"They really need some sleep." Axle said.

"Oh, you know as well as I do they won't get it. We can go in there and yell at the them a thousand times and you know for a fact that they won't listen."

He grunted. "Kids."

"Yeah. Speaking of which, what's up with Throttle lately?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I've had other things on my mind..."

She moved her head up, resting her chin on his chest. "Oh, and what's that?"

"The bombing yesterday. I heard that Sentry City was rocked pretty hard when those four buildings exploded for no reason. I can't help but think our intergalactic guest have something to do with it."

She perked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. I know the Plutarkians are saying 'peace,' but when things like this happen...I just don't know. I'm staring to sound like Stoker, but I mean–"

"Axle..."

"Hmm?"

"Calm down, sweetie. Whatever is going on, it's thousands of miles away from us."

He sighed. "I hope you're right."

"You need to relax." she sighed, running one small hand across his chest.

"I can't seem to." Axle grunted.

"Then let me see what I can do..." she said, nuzzling her lips against his neck.

Axle sighed happily.

Somewhere between the third horror movie "It Came from the Dark Side of Phobos" and when Vinnie got popcorn stuck up nose, the guys finally began to get a little worn out.

Bingo was already dozing off, huddling into her oversized pink and blue pillow covered with tiny hearts.

"Aw, widdle girly need her beauty sleep?" Vinnie teased crawling over to her, drawing his blanket along with him, wrapping it around his shoulders like a cape.

"Shut up you macho meat-head." Bingo grumbled, tossing her pillow at him. Unfortunately, Vinnie was quick to duck and the pillow went sailing over his head and straight into a very unsuspecting Modo.

The grey mouse was thrown backwards onto his sleeping bag and laid there flat for a moment. Vinnie was giggling madly and pointing while Bingo had her mouth covered. Modo sat up, feathers stuck to his fur and grinned evilly, "Oohhh, it's a fight you want is it?" he asked, picking up his own pillow and heaving it a Vinnie in a flying tackle.

But once again, Vinnie managed to save himself by ducking under the coffee table, and Modo crashed straight into Throttle, who was engrossed in one of his hand-held video games.

"AHH!" Throttle cried as he was sent face-first into the carpet as Modo landed on top of him. "Modo!"

"Sorry bro!" Modo gasped, looking quiet embarrassed. "It's Vinnie's fault!"

The two mice grinned at each other and then turned slowly towards Vinnie. "Oh Vincent..."

Vinnie gulped and screamed like a girl as both his bros pounced on him with every pillow available, faithfully supplied by Bingo.

By the end of the battle the room was covered in feathers.

"Traitor." Vinnie grumbled as Bingo curled up in her bag to go to sleep. She stuck her tongue out at him and giggled playfully.

"I wuv you Vinnie." she teased.

"Ick!" Vinnie cried, recoiling in fear as though she were a flesh-eating virus.

Two heckling snickers came from the other side of the room as Throttle and Modo struggled to contain their laughter. "Vinnie and Bingo sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Shut up!" Vinnie hissed.

Bing then went in for the kill. She jumped up, threw her arms around Vinnie's neck and planted a big wet kiss right on his cheek.

Vinnie abruptly fell over, face beat-red.

Throttle and Modo were inconsolable for the next five minutes with laughter.

By the time Stoker had reached Jimmy's bar, the weather had taken a turn for the worst. Dark storm clouds had formed overhead and the rain was coming down in torrents and the wind was threatening to throw him off his bike.

"Now where in the hell did _this_ come from?" he grumbled as he wiped the rain off his visor once more.

Finally, he pulled up to the bar and parked his bike around the back where the wind wouldn't bother it so badly. The wind beat against him viciously and he was forced to hold onto the sides of the building to keep from being blown over. When finally Stoker reached the door he practically fell inside, soaked and chilled to the bone.

Jimmy, who had been cleaning off the counter, looked up to see the hunched and soaked figure in the doorway.

"Stoker!" he called. He leaped over the bar, rather than walk around it, and stepped towards his friend. "Whoa, Stoke you're like an ice cube! And you're soaked!" he gasped.

"Thanks for noticing." Stoker said through chattering teeth. "It's like a hurricane out there!" he added.

"Nah, hurricanes are much warmer than this. Here, let me help you out," Jimmy said, helping Stoker pull off his jacket. It was dripping wet.

The brown-furred mouse looked around the room, not surprised to see that the place was nearly empty, considering the storm outside.

"Hey Jimmy!" a cranky customer who was huddled at a back table shouted.

"What?" Jimmy asked, hand on his hip.

"Where's my beer?" Jimmy sighed, smiling and shook his head.

"Keep your pants on. I'm coming." he called. He turned back to Stoker. "Make yourself at home, bro. You know where everything is."

Indeed Stoker knew where _everything_ was. He had helped Jimmy get this place, way back in the day. Helped him build it, helped him run it a few times. This is where he had spent all his good times...and his bad ones.

Stoker was still feeling very somber and sober after the conversation earlier with Chaos, and was looking to remedy both problems quickly.

He sunk down on a bar stool and leaned on the bar, feeling the full warmth of the place wash over him. "Ahh..." he sighed happily.

Soon, Jimmy appeared in front of him again, all smiles as usual. "So, what will it be?" he asked.

"Got anything to warm up these old bones?"

Jimmy poured him a tall glass of whiskey and winked at him, "Some of Jimmy's famous soup to go with that? Or you just want the fire-water?" he asked.

Stoker took a quick shot of his drink. "You know how much I love your cookin, Jim." he said with a smile.

He chuckled as he watched Jimmy slip into the kitchen before letting his head slip down onto the bar for a short rest. He didn't realize how tired he was until he began to doze off. A moment before sleep could get a firm grasp on him, he felt Jimmy's hand slide under his head and force him to look up at him.

"Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up will ya?" he said.

"Hmmm...?" Stoker mumbled sleepily. Jimmy dashed a bit of cold water in his face.

"Ahh!" Stoker cried, sputtering.

"There. Better now?" Jimmy asked.

"JAMES!" Stoker shouted. "If you don't want me sleeping on your bar, Jimmy, then just say so for God's sake." he snapped.

"Now what fun would that be?" Jimmy asked, batting his eyes at him. He pushed a bowl of steaming hot soup in front of him. "This oughta warm you up."

"Thanks." Stoker mumbled, digging in. "Hey, were's that girl you showed me this morning? Chaos wasn't it?"

"Oh, so that's why you came back."the blonde-mouse said, winking at him.

"No," Stoker replied without looking up for his food. "That's just one reason."

"So you think she's cute huh?" the other mouse asked.

"Beautiful." Stoker answered.

The bartender grinned. "Sounds like puppy-love to me. She seemed pretty interested in you, all the same. You and all that Prince Charming crap." he said.

"Well it seems to work better than your 'hey baby, wanna bang?' approach." Stoker said glancing up at him with a smirk.

"Hey, the men love it. And the girls, well...they love it secretly. That's the problem with girls, they're too polite to admit that they have sexual urges in public."

Stoker rolled his eyes. Jimmy's open sexuality could be quiet...strange at times.

A moment of silence passed between the two of them as Jimmy grabbed drinks for a few more thirsty customers. "So, how long has it been?" he asked quietly, the strange serious tone entering his voice again.

Stoker looked up at him from his bowl. "What?"

"How long since you had a girl?" Jimmy asked again.

Stoker took a moment to answer, taking another shot of whiskey. "She'll be the first."

Jimmy chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. "You like her that much?" he asked slowly.

Stoker didn't answer, and drank more.

Jimmy leaned towards him, so that they were face to face. "Stoker, don't do this. Don't go getting drunk and stupid and thinking this is gonna be a guilt-free one night stand. She's a good girl."

Stoker swatted him away, "I'm not, I'm not..." he muttered. But Jimmy had read his mind. And now he was feeling a bit guilty.

Jimmy put a hand on Stoker's. "I apologize for early Stoker. I did not expect that to come up..." he said sincerely.

"Not your fault, Jim." the brown-furred mouse answered.

"But, I'm glad you feel ready to move on." he added then.

"I'll never be ready to move on, James. But Silverdawn would hate to see me go like this for the rest of my life, so..." he finished his glass in one deep pull. "I don't intend to take advantage of Chaos, don't worry."

Jimmy patted his hand. "Good." He paused a moment and then grinned. "I on the other hand am perfectly willing to be taken advantage of!" he said suggestively.

Stoker looked at him mildly. "There isn't enough booze in this whole bar, James." he answered.

"Care to wager?" Jimmy joked.

Stoker smacked him along side his head playfully.

It was at that moment Chaos chose to appear, this time fully dressed.

"Well, fancy meeting you here." Stoker said, smiling warmly at her.

"I almost thought you weren't going to make it." She gasped, motioning to weather out the nearest window.

"Yeah. Almost thought I wasn't going to make it." Stoker answered.

"Well, I'm certainly glad you did. I was hoping to get to know you better." she said shyly.

"Same here." Stoker replied.

Just then, before either of the mice could get another word in, the door flew open and another mouse stepped in, hulking and angry looking. He stomped up to the bar, his boots sloshing with rain as he did.

"Hey, runt," he growled, nearly knocking Stoker over as he stepped up to the bar. "Give me a beer. Now."

Jimmy looked unamused. "I told you before, pal, a punch in the gut isn't considered payment. If you ain't go any money, then get out." he snapped.

It was more than apparent that these two had met before. The big mouse was obviously already very drunk. He reeked of beer, and seemed in rather bad spirits in spite of it. But Jimmy was looking a little feisty himself.

Stoker smelled a fight brewing and he smiled to himself.

"I said give me my beer!" the other mouse shouted, grabbing Jimmy by his collar and half-lifting him of the ground.

"And I said give me my money!" Jimmy retorted firmly.

The big mouse grunted and glanced around quickly, finally settling his eyes on Chaos, who was just standing there in shock. He smiled and dropped Jimmy as he reached for her, grabbing her around the waist.

"Hey!" Chaos gasped. The big mouse slammed her up against the side of the wall, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and apron, digging for money.

"Hey!" Stoker hissed. The big mouse looked up at him. "That's no way to treat a lady."

The other man glanced back at Chaos for a moment, then pushed her back against the wall. "Stay." he growled at her, turning to face Stoker.

Stoker grinned and cracked his knuckles. "Hello misplaced aggression." he said. The other mouse let out an angry roar and charged him head on. Stoker stood there calmly for a second, before leaping into the air and out of the way. But his plan didn't work for long, when the hulking brute shot out a large hand, grabbing Stoker firmly around the leg and slamming him down on the table.

"ARGH!" Stoker cried out as the table, and what felt like his back, broke with the impact, sending him sprawled on the floor.

"Stoke!" Jimmy gasped. "Oh, shit-head you done it now..." he growled looking at the drunk bastard who had just body-slammed his best friend. He reached under the bar and pulled out his trusty bazooka, which he kept for protection.

Stoker looked up dizzily as the drunken man broke off one the shattered table's legs and held it over him, ready to bring it smashing down onto his skull.

Suddenly however the brute froze as Jimmy made his own weapon know. "Drop it, boy!" the bartender ordered loudly.

The drunk froze, more then a little surprised at Jimmy's fire-power. Taking advantage of his distraction, Stoker took a sucker shot, and slammed his foot into his crotch.

The other mouse's eyes crossed as he cried out painfully and doubled over, just as Chaos brought a near-by chair down across his back, sending him sprawled on the floor, unable to move.

"Damn, girl..." Stoker blinked, still lying on the floor, blinking at the incapacitated man next to him.

Chaos pulled him to his feet as he dusted himself off. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine, are you alright?" Stoker asked looking her over carefully.

Jimmy appeared between the two of them. "Son of a bitch broke my table! You're paying for that!" he cried, kicking the guy in the butt.

Stoker glanced at Jimmy's weapon. "Isn't that a bit of over-kill, bro?" he asked.

"Hey, bigger is better my friend. Bigger is always better." Jimmy said with a grin. Chaos and Stoker grinned.

They glanced down once more at their guest.

"Well, what do we do with him now?" Chaos asked.

Stoker and Jimmy grinned at each other.

"Same thing I do with all my ungrateful customers." Jimmy replied. He and Stoker each picked up and end of the brute and dragged him towards the door and threw him out onto the curb with a loud cry of "Heave-ho!"

"Well," Stoker said wiping his hands. "Nothing out of the ordinary, eh, Jim?"

"Nope, pretty boring actually." Jimmy said with a yawn. "How about calling it a night then, hmm?"

Stoker rubbed the back of his neck. "Sounds like the best idea I've heard all night."

"Stoker?" Chaos asked suddenly as they walked back inside. "Thank you for standing up for me like that, it was really brave." she said.

"Hey, it's what I do." Stoker shrugged.

"Are you staying?" she asked then, a faint tinge of pink in her cheeks.

Stoker chuckled, "Yeah, Jim will put me up for the night. I sorta got my own room here I used to stay so much." he replied. He had an idea then. "Hey, Chaos, the kids and I were heading to the amusement park tomorrow, care to tag along?" he asked.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." she nodded.

"Great! It's a date then." Stoker said. A moment later his brain was stumbling over the word "date."

Chaos smiled shyly at him. "Well, if you need some company tonight, I'm right down the hall." she said, reaching up and kissing his cheek before slinking off to clean up.

Stoker stood blinking in her wake, a stupid smile spreading across his face as his brain tried to comprehend what he was getting himself into.

Jimmy appeared at his shoulder. "Did she just invite you to bed with her?" he asked, leaning against Stoker's shoulder as he took a drink from a beer bottle.

"I believe she did." Stoker answered.

"Huh." Jimmy said thoughtfully. "You promised you wouldn't." he reminded his friend.

"Does it count if she asked _me_?" Stoker asked.

"Yep."

"Fuck you." The brown mouse sighed.

"Oh I wish you would." Jimmy giggled, smacking Stoker's butt.


	3. Family

Chapter 3: Family

High above Mars, large vessels came into position. They were huge, almost majestic as they entered high orbit. Their hulls appeared like gigantic fish, with space as their ocean. On board, a few members of his race, the Plutarkians, met with Stilton.

"The bombs worked perfectly. The buildings were almost completely leveled," the skinny Plutarkian said, standing in front of Stilton.

"Excellent. Then, any evidence of our true purpose here on Mars has been destroyed?"

"Yes, sir." the Plutarkian answered.

Stilton walked across the large room and through a metal door. Inside, the other Plutarkians–all commanders and agents of Stilton's–followed him to a large monitor. Stilton gracefully pressed a few keys, creating an up-link with his home world Plutark.

In less than a minute, the newly elected leader of the Plutarkian Empire–High Chairman Camembert appeared. Stilton grinned at his illustrious leader. He, like others before him, had bribed his way into becoming High Chairman, and was sure to keep himself there with many other forms of trickery and deceit.

"Prepare for the Plutarkian greeting," Camembert addressed.

Stilton sighed, then join the other Plutarkians in pressing his ass against the vid-screen.

"Cheek to cheek and stink to stink! As Plutark grows the galaxy shrinks!" They went on to make strange arm-pit noises and then blew raspberries at each other.

When the official greeting was over, Stilton was more than happy to give the High Chairman his report. "We destroyed four buildings that had evidence of our alliance with the Sand Raiders."

"Excellent. Are things ready for our takeover of Hellfire City?"

"Almost. Thanks to Kent, we have information regarding population and neighborhoods."

"And what about the Camps? Are they ready?"

"Yes. Mozzarella just informed us that he would be fully loaded by the end of the week. We can move in then."

"Good. I want any resistance crushed, so be prepared. I want nothing to go wrong."

Stilton scoffed arrogantly. "Why High Chairman, with you as our leader, what is the worst that can happen?"

"Just remember that, Dominic. Plutark out."

Throttle ran to the Scrambler in the best Martian amusement park on Mars–Maxium Point. He was more than ready to ride the Super Force, the world's largest roller coasted. He knew he had to work up to it though.

"Oh, I don't know," Jewel uttered.

Axle put his hand on her shoulder. "Oh, honey, it's no big deal. These kids could use some courage."

"Yeah! It impresses the chicks, too!" Vinnie exclaimed.

"Heh heh," laughed Bingo.

"Well, when you put it that way, little bro," said Modo, "let's go!"

"Yeah!" Throttle yelled, following behind. Screw the warming up–they were going straight for the big one. Just as they were about to up into the five-hour line, Stoker stood before them.

"Hey, wait a minute bros, you want to wait on this one!"

"Why?"

"Because it will make everything else seem lame. Trust me, kiddos."

Axle agreed. "Stoke's right. Come on, kids, let's hit some other coasters first."

Chaos smiled as she and Stoker headed towards the Magnus, formerly the largest coaster know to Martians. It should be know that Chaos had never ever ridden any sort of roller coaster before.

"YAAAAAAAAAAAH!" she screamed as she and Stoker shot down the first hill.

"WhoayeahbabyyeahthisiswhatIlikeyeah!" Stoker shouted as Chaos was about to scream his hearing away.

Meanwhile, Throttle, Vinnie, Modo, and Bingo were keeping themselves occupied riding all the ride in the entire park.

Axle and Jewel, however, were enjoying a rousing good time at the Kiddie section of the park (which included such thrills as the "Lil' Demos Drop" and the "Itsy Bitsy Magnus"). After dropping Smoke off at the day-care, they were able to spend some private, quality time together.

"I've really been missing you, honey." Jewel said.

"I know. The feeling's mutual, sweetie. The feeling's mutual." Axle replied, running a hair through his wife's hair. His eyes slipped onto the crowds of people as the jostled past them, all going about their lives, perfectly unaware of the world around them and it's strange goings-ons.

Axle wondered if he and his family weren't so different from them, turning a blind eye to things that needed his attention, just because it was more comfortable that way. All Stoker's warnings, all his cynicism...it was beginning to make a lot of sense.

"Honey?" Jewel's voice brought him back to the present and he looked at her as she looked at him with mild concern on her pretty face. Axle smiled and kissed her.

"Sorry, babe. Just thinking." he replied.


	4. Invasion

Chapter 4: Invasion

It started like any other day on Mars. In Hellfire City, located near the borders of Valles Marineris region of Mars, people were heading to work. Its suburban area was just starting to wake to the sound of the Martian Hornswallow as it began its morning song.

This was not, however, what woke up Jessie Van Wham. The white-furred mouse's sleep was shattered by the sound of her door being thrown open.

"_Jessica Van Wham_!" screamed Relena, thundering over to Jessie. The young mouse felt her mother's fingers pull on her hair as she was yanked up by it.

"OW!" cried Jessie. "Mommy!"

"I called you three times! Why the hell aren't you up yet!"

"I was asleep...I couldn't hear you..."

"Don't talk back to me!"

Jessie was thrown into the kitchen, which was a little more than messy.

"Sorry,"

"You're damn right you're sorry." Relena replied shortly, dumping her half-empty cup of coffee into the sink. "Now clean up this mess, make your brother some breakfast and clean this house! I was called into work and I don't have time to deal with you!"

"Alright, Mommy," Jessie returned through budding tears.

"Oh stop your crying. I swear, Jessica, you are such a baby."

"Well I can't–"

Jessie's protest was cut short by a swift hand across the cheek. "_What did I tell you!_" her mother demanded, staring her in eye.

"Okay! I'm sorry!"

Relena snatched up her purse and her briefcase and headed to the door. "This place had better be spotless by the time I get home, or there will be hell to pay, little girl."

Jessie started to sob as she heard her Mom's car pull away. After a few minutes, she pulled herself together and started to clean the house, in mortal fear of what her mother might say if she came home and it wasn't.

Relena Van Wham certainly put the fear of God in her children. Or more accurately, the fear of herself. Jessie hated her mother for the way she treated her and her brother, but she was stuck in the trap of loving her as well. Vinnie had begun to separate himself from those feelings, but Jessie had no one else to look up to. After all, Vinnie at least had Stoker to look up to as a father figure, and friends to keep him busy. But Jessie, so unlike her twin, was quiet and reclusive. Under the right conditions she could have blossomed and become very sociable and friendly, but under Relena's thumb she was silent and subdued most of the time, for that was what kept her safe.

Vinnie wandered in the kitchen door then as Jessie was wiping at the huge tears rolling down her cheek in frustration.

"What are you crying about?" Vinnie asked, eyeing his sibling. It was a foolish question, Vinnie knew without asking why Jessie was upset. It was the same reason Jessie was always upset. Mom had been in a "mood" again.

"Nothing!" Jessie snapped at her twin. It was more out of embarrassment and frustration than anger.

Vinnie rolled his eyes and stepped up to his sister, taking her face in one of his hands and turning it so he could look at her properly. He admired the fresh hand print that showed red on the skin beneath Jessie's fur.

Without saying another word the only male of the Van Wham household walked to the fridge, pulled out an ice pack from the freezer, wrapped it in a dish towel, and pressed it against his sister's cheek.

"Just keep it there for awhile, and you'll be fine." he said.

Jessie sniffed loudly and blinked at her brother. Vinnie and she rarely got along, but in this they had a common bond. And Vinnie was technically older...by a minute. It was his job to look after her.

He said no more and headed into the living room to watch TV, leaving Jessie where she was.

Stoker entered into Jimmy's bar and swaggered up to the counter. He noticed that the television was on and there seemed to be some sort of special news broadcast.

"What's this?" asked Stoker.

"Something's going on in Sentry City," said a familiar-looking Mouse next to Stoke. Stoker looked at him.

"Lucas!" he exclaimed. "How's it going?"

"Okay. I'm worried about this though," Lucas told him. "Something about Plutarkians arriving in Sentry City. Pretty big stuff, Stoke. Sentry City is key in keeping the Sand Raiders bottled up."

"Huh."

Stoker recalled Lucas's ramblings about Plutarkians and San Raiders. He had felt this way a long time; ever since Lucas's wife had been killed by a gang of rouge Sand Raiders. Lucas was a nice guy, but Stoker could tell that he was letting his anger get to him.

"What do you think is going to happen, Lucas?"

"I'm not sure, Stoke," returned the other Mouse. "There are all sorts of rumors that Sentry was sold to Plutark for land. Of course, I heard the same thing about Hellfire."

Now Stoker was interested. "Are you saying that there are actual rumors that Plutark bough Hellfire?"

"Yep."

Jimmy, who had heard most of this conversation, walked over. "Boy, am I glad I'm outside city limits."

"Are you?" wondered Lucas.

"Yes, sir. Which is why whenever the big snow's come my bar is deserted because the streets never get cleaned good and proper." Jimmy nodded.

Chaos walked in then, stepping over to the three men. "Hi, Stoke." she greeting soothingly.

"Hey babe," Stoker returned, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Well, I'm outta here," Lucas said. "My daughter Cassie and I are going camping today. I promised her I'd pick up a camera before we left."

"See ya later, Lucas." Stoker said, shaking his hand.

"Take it easy." he replied, heading out the door.

The next day, it began...

Lunch time was a well-deserved break for the young mice, who headed outside to enjoy the fresh-air while they ate.

"Hey, Modo, I'll trade you my sandwich for your snack-pack." Vinnie said as they sat together on the picnic-table in the field just behind the school.

"No way, bro! I gotta have my pudding! I need my chocolate fix, man!" Modo said, pulling open the plastic container.

"You guys are weird." Throttle said, shaking his head as he admired a couple of cute freshmen girls walking in the grass, sucking down cans of pop. One of them waved shyly to Throttle, and he nodded in return.

"Oooh, Throttle's in love..." Vinnie teased him, flicking his ear.

Throttle swatted at him. "Shut up, at least I can _get_ a girl to check me out, _little boy_." his older bro mocked.

"Hey! Don't you know women like younger men?" Vinnie said, flexing his arms, trying to look macho, as was Vinnie's mission in life.

"I thought it was the other way around?" Modo said thoughtfully. He turned his attention to Throttle once more, "Hey bro, she's one of the cheerleaders. I've got game practice tonight, I could..." he began.

Throttle shook his head, "Nah, I'm not really interested, bro. Thanks though." Throttle said, waving away the comment.

"Hey Modo, you gonna eat that?" Bingo asked, pointing to Modo's untouched cup of vegetables.

"Nah, you can have it Bing'." Modo said fondly, shoving it towards her.

"Thanks!" Bingo cried, happily digging in.

Throttle's ears perked suddenly and his nose twitched. There seemed to be a sort of electricity in the air that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Something's up." he said without preamble.

"I'll say," Vinnie said the next moment, dropping his sandwich to the table and making a sour face. "what is that stench!"

"Hey, he who smelt it dealt it, smart ass." Bingo pipped up.

Modo shook his head suddenly. "Ewwww no, I smell it too. What is that!" he demanded, crinkling his nose.

Throttle stood on the bench he was previously sitting on and looked out into the distance, blue eyes squinting in the bright mid-day sun. "It's coming from that direction." he said pointing to the road along side the field.

He looked a little closer and noticed that there seemed to be a cloud of dust rising from the road in the distance, and was approaching quickly. As it approached, the strange stench grew stronger, carried on the wind.

A moment later they began to feel the tremors in the ground, the rumbling of heavy vehicles approaching.

Bingo and the others joined him in standing on the table to get a better view, their lunches forgotten. All around them the other students began to take notice as well.

"What is it...?" Bingo asked, the fur on the back of her neck bristling. Something wasn't right. She reached out and grabbed hold of Vinnie's arm, clinging to it as they stared into the distance.

"Tanks!" Modo cried, seeing them first as they emerged through the cloud of dust.

"Those aren't ours..." Throttle said worriedly.

"Look! There are people riding on the top of it." Bingo said.

"Is it some sort of parade?" Vinnie wondered aloud.

As the people came into view, Throttle realized these were no Martians, Mouse or otherwise. They were Plutarkian. Each fat fish was uniformed in combat gear, and shouldering lazor riffles over their fat arms. As they came into view, he realized that some of them were beginning to load their weapons.

The tan-furred mouse leapt off the table. "Vinnie, get Jessie. Tell everyone to get inside." he said, his voice stern.

"What? Why?" Vinnie asked.

"Just do it!" Throttle shouted at him. Vinnie blinked and hopped off the table as well, Modo and Bingo following suit. Their eyes never left the approaching Plutarkians.

Modo huddled instinctively closer to the younger members of his group, brotherly instinct taking over as he tried to push the younger children out of harms way, ushering them towards the doors of the school.

Some of the other students were following their lead, retreating inside as they warily watched the tanks grow closer and closer to the school yard. Others stood transfixed, watching the strange spectacle in silence.

Vinnie had pried Jessie away from her friends, and the five of them stood on the steps, leading into the back door of the school, still watching the tanks.

The huge vehicles lumbered to a slow halt along the school grounds, and as they did, the fish that lined the sides of them jumped to the ground, weapons in gear. They stood in a straight line along the side of the road, each holding their riffle.

"Throttle...come inside." Modo breathed, looking at his friend who stood in front of them. Another scent had suddenly filled Modo's nose, something even more overpowering than the foul odor of the aliens that now loomed before them. The metallic and unmistakable scent of blood and death.

They spotted one Plutarkian who still rode atop one of the hulking machines lifting a mega-phone to his mouth.

"Attention Martian Mice! The City of Hellfire has been officially turned over to Plutarkian Command! You will surrender yourselves immediately to Plutarkian authority!"

A confused murmur rippled through the small crowd. Above them in the building, people were hanging out windows to see what was going on, and teachers came rushing around the sides of the building and out the back door.

"What do you mean we will surrender!" An astonished cry came up from the crowd of students.

"You will remain calm! Please reenter your building and await further instruction!" the fish with the mega-phone called again.

"We will not surrender this city, this school, or these children to you!" Another voice came up suddenly from the crowd. Modo threw his gaze in that direction and realized the protest had come from his history teacher.

"Yeah! Go back to where you came from you stink-fishes!" another voice echoed, this time a student, someone in Throttle's class, heaved a rock towards a Plutarkian solider. It missed the fish by a few inches, but they seemed riled by it.

"Yeah! Leave us alone!" two more echoed, and more stones were hurled, one bouncing off an solider's helmet.

"YOU WILL REMAIN CALM AND REENTER THE BUILDING IMMEDIATELY!" The fish with the mega-phone shouted again.

This demand was met by another barrage of stones, one of which knocked the mega-phone out of his hands.

The Plutarkian stared at the mob of children, clearly infuriated, and then waved something to an officer that was standing beside. Several of the soldiers raised their riffles and fired loud warning shots, just above the mice's heads.

Panicked screams went up from the crowds and in an instant the mice began to scatter wildly about the grounds, terrified. As chaos ensued, the Plutarkians now opened fire on the crowd.

Several students went down within the first barrage of shots, lying dead and bleeding on the ground.

The children ran as another group of Plutarkians, also armed with riffles came charging into the building.

Modo lead the pack as they sprinted across the lawn, the screams of their classmates echoing in their ears as the deafening thunder of bullets sent the unlucky sprawled in front of them as their blood stained the fresh cut grass.

Bingo screamed in terror as she watched the girl who had been running a few feet away from her tumble forward as a bullet sunk into her skull, sending blood spray across the young girl's face.

Jessie, panic-stricken, fell to the ground crying in fear.

"Jessie don't stop!" Vinnie shouted, his voice shrill with fear as she tried to drag his twin across the ground, but Jessie wouldn't move, and hid her face in her hands and screamed.

Modo grabbed picked her up in his arms and carried her as they continued to dodge the flying rain of death. "RUN! DON'T STOP! RUN!"

They rounded the corner of the building where the bullets could not follow and went sprinting across the parking lot, heading towards where Modo had his motorcycle parked.

As they turned towards the rows of jeeps and bikes, where they at least thought they would be safe, they were greeted by an even more ghastly site. One of the tanks was plowing through the parking lot, the barrel of it's gun raised.

"SHIT!" Throttle screamed as they all dove behind the nearest jeep as an explosion rocked the ground around them. They huddled together, hands behind their heads to cover their necks and they hunched over. Cement and shrapnel flew through the air, followed by intense heat and a ripple of smoke. Modo peeked over beneath the jeep and saw that were his bike was once standing, was now just a giant, flaming hole of scrap metal.

"My bike!" Modo shouted. Throttle tugged urgently on his shoulder. "Forget it, forget it! Come on!" he shouted.

Hunched over they ran through the rows of jeeps, followed by others who were following their lead. The parking lot exploded several more times before they cleared it and found themselves running through the back-yards of the surrounding homes in the neighborhood.

Throttle heard a piercing scream of pain behind him and turned to see a young boy tumble to the ground, holding his leg. His name was Brinkley, he had sat next to Throttle in chemistry.

The tan mouse doubled back towards the boy who was lying on the ground, holding his bloody leg. "Here, hold onto me." he said, throwing Brinkley's arm over his shoulder and hauling him to his feet.

Other students began filtering in as well, some injured. "Follow us!" Throttle said, motioning for them to follow his lead. Another girl, probably a grade or two above Throttle took Brinkley's other arm and the two of them supported the whimpering boy as they walked across the yards, searching for somewhere to go.

Modo knew that the houses they were passing now would be the first place the soldiers would looking for them. Jessie was quivering in his arms, his injured classmates were slowly making their way towards him. A big crowd was not a good idea, they needed to get everyone out of the way and quickly.

"Where do we go?" he asked, looking hurriedly at Throttle.

The tan mouse stared at him. The others were now looking at him for answers as well. He had to think quickly. He threw his gaze about, casting for anything that might provide a good shelter for them. His eyes rolled past the houses and the garages that stood beside them, too obvious. Then he saw it. Down the street that was stretched in front of them there was a sign that said 'Road Work Ahead.'

Throttle knew that they were doing repair work on the sewer, and that the man-hole was wide open.

"Everyone follow me!" he cried, ushering them forward, Brinkley in tow. The group made their way as quickly as possible down the street, glancing from side to side. They could still hear the screams and the sounds of gun-fire from the school behind them.

"Bro, what are we doing?" Vinnie asked as they rushed past the road block and climbed over top of the up-turned black-top.

"Down there?" Modo asked, looking into the darkness of the sewer below.

Throttle nodded grimly. Gingerly Modo set Jessie down, and climbed into the hole first. Once he had reached the bottom, he waved for the others to follow. Throttle handed Brinkley down to him, along with two other kids who were also injured, and then the others followed suit.

When the last of them had descended the ladder, pulling the man-hole cover over the open as they did, they found themselves standing together in the dank, darkness of their sewer system.

"What now?" Vinnie asked, his eyes adjusting to the dim light.

"We wait. Everyone, move away from the opening." Throttle said as they clambered down the tunnel a few feet until they could only see the faint light of the hole in the distance. Altogether they were a little more than two dozen crammed there in dark.

Vinnie hugged his sobbing little sister as they sat on the damp ground, Modo consoled a shaken Bingo, and Throttle kept watch down the tunnel, and prayed someone would come to their rescue.

Meanwhile, outside the city, Stoker sat contentedly at the bar, drinking a root beer and watching Jimmy as he polished and cleaned the shot glasses.

Stoker heard what sounded like far-off thunder in the distance and glanced out the window, expecting to see the sky darken with storm clouds, but he could only see sunshine. "Sounds like a storms brewing." he said off-handedly.

"It's pretty close from the sounds of it." Jimmy replied.

Suddenly the door of the bar was thrown open and a mouse came rushing in, wide-eyed. "Jimmy! Jimmy! They're killing them! They're killing the Mice!" he screamed.

Stoker and Jimmy stared at the newcomer. "What?" Jimmy asked, eyes wide.

"In Hellfire...the Plutarkians..." the man said through big panting breaths, "they're everywhere, the city's under siege! You better run while you can!"

Stoker jumped up so quickly from his bar stool that he knocked it over as he rushed out the door to see what the man was talking about. From the road Stoker could see over the top of a line of trees that lined the road past a few run-down homes and lead into the city. Plumes of black smoke spiraled up through the orange sky, accented by the thundering echo of bombs and explosions, which Stoker had mistaken for a storm.

Jimmy was suddenly at his side, followed by Chaos. "Mother of God..." Jimmy gasped in shock and awe.

Suddenly Stoker pushed past him, leaping onto his bike that was standing behind them in the parking lot.

"Stoker where are you going!" Chaos asked, fear rising in her voice.

"I gotta get the kids!" He grunted, yanking on his helmet. "They had no warning! None! Those stinking bastards!"

"I'm coming with you." Jimmy declared.

"No! You stay here with Chaos and help the ones that escape." Stoker instructed.

"You can't go alone!" Chaos shouted.

"I won't, don't worry sugar." Stoker nodded, revving his engine as he sped past them down the road, into the doomed city.

The attack had not yet reached all corners of the city, and was found mostly from the north upon entering the town, and was quickly headed towards the center, where it would then spread like wild-fire.

Stoker sped through the streets, watching as confused locals wandered out into the roads, trying to figure out the source of the smoke and sounds of explosions.

Sirens rang out as emergency vehicles and police tore down the roads towards the source of the trouble. Stoker followed their lead.

"Stoker!" a voice suddenly shouted to him from the side. Stoker turned his head to see Axle in his jeep on the side of the road, waving to him frantically. Stoker popped his bike into a wheely and turned around stopping beside his friend.

"Axle, the city's under attack, get your family and haul your tails out of here!" Stoker warned.

Axle looked close to losing it as he grabbed Stoker's shoulders. "Stoker, Throttle! The boys, their school is being attacked!" he cried. Stoker's green eyes widened.

"What!"

"They opened fire on the students, the building's on fire!" Axle exclaimed.

"Follow me!" Stoker said, revving his engine once again and taking off. Axle jumped back into his Jeep and sped off after him, following the sounds of the sirens.

As they grew closer to the sight of the incident, traffic ground to a halt. Overhead Plutarkian vessels, all huge and shaped like bloated fish, hovered above their heads. The street that led to the school was being blocked off by alien tanks, and further blockaded by police and emergency vehicles that were trying to get into the sight.

Axle slammed his jeep into park and leapt out, heading through the throngs of people towards the tanks, only to be pushed back by two policemen.

"Sir, you can not go in there! This is a secured area!" one man said.

"My kid is in there!" Axle screamed at them.

He looked over the heads of the police men and saw two Plutarkian solders looking down at him from their barricade. "No one in or out, Mouse. This area is under Plutarkian control now." one said.

Axle resisted the urge to rip his face off, and instead back away, running back to where Stoker was waiting for him.

The chocolate-furred Mouse was staring down a side-street that had gone unnoticed by anyone as of yet.

"You smell that?" he asked as Axle approached him.

Axle sniffed the air. "Blood." he said, his stomach bottoming out. Stoker glanced at him, and then hurried down the side street, following their noses.

Axle peered between houses, some of which had been hit by the explosions and had pieces of them lying on the street and the yards around them. Stoker led him further on down the road, his nose twitching incessantly. He could smell Throttle and the others, but he could not see them. And the interference of other smells, like the pungent stink of the aliens and the smell of gun-powder and ash in the air made it hard to determine where the scent lead.

Suddenly Stoker found himself standing over a partially covered man-hole.

"The trail ends here, I can't smell anything but sewer..." Axle said hopelessly.

Stoker however, smiled as he looked down. "Precisely." He bent down and shoved the man-hole cover aside, poking his head into the hole. "Bros!" he shouted.

At first there was no answer, and then there was a timid echo of "Stoker?"

Axle was suddenly leaning into the hole himself. "Throttle! Throttle are you down there?" he called.

"I'm here, Dad!" Throttle called back.

Axle darted down the narrow and slippery ladder into the sewer and was greeted by his son at the bottom. "Throttle! Thank God!" Axle threw his arms around his son, hugging him hard to his chest. "Are you hurt? Are you alright?" Axle gasped, looking the young mouse over.

"I'm fine dad, but there are a few others who are hurt." Throttle answered. Axle looked past his son down the length of the tunnel and saw dozens of pairs of eyes blinking back at him.

Slowly the shadowy figures made themselves known and moved towards the small patch of light that the other two mice were standing in. Axle hugged Throttle to him again, fighting back tears as he watched the others limp out of the darkness.

"Axle, we've got to hurry, they'll be here soon." Stoker called from above.

Within a few moments, the two men had pulled the children out of the sewer, and were making their way towards the street where the ambulances were to get the injured children the help they needed.

Upon arrival, Stoker and Axle found some familiar faces waiting for them.

"Axle! Throttle!"

Throttle McCloud looked up to see his mother standing with his baby brother in her arms. Beside her stood Rose and Lida, who had Rimfire and Emily, Modo's nephew and niece, with her. Relena was also present, looking very haggard indeed.

Jewel sprinted towards her husband and son and held them both as best she could with her young child in her arms. "Axle, they're everywhere! They're ordering people out of their homes, I don't know what to do!" Jewel said nervously.

"Mama! Are you alright?" Modo asked worriedly heading over to his family, hugging them hard.

"Oh, darlin' we're fine, we were worried about you!" Rose said, holding her son's face in her hands. His sister looked at him tearfully, holding her twins at her sides.

"Mommy!" Jessie screamed running to Relena and throwing her arms around her waist. Relena held her daughter awkwardly, and looked worriedly at her son, who came to her but did not touch her. "Are you alright, Vinnie?" she asked.

Vinnie nodded, and looked to Bingo who was standing beside him. The little red-headed mouse looked lost until another figure appeared among the crowd. A strikingly tall mouse, with dark-red fur and salt-and-pepper hair, dressed in a black suit appeared then. "Bingo?" he said worriedly, looking to the thin young girl standing next to Vincent Van Wham.

"Pop!" Bingo cried turning and running to him. He lifted her thin frame easily and hugged it to him, patting her hair gently.

"I'm glad you're safe."

This was Bingo's guardian, a man named Zanatos. Bingo had been left in his care after her parents died years ago.

"What are we gonna do, they won't let us go home." Relena said suddenly, her eyes falling upon Stoker who stood there, silent until that moment.

He was about to open his mouth to say something, when someone's voice drifted over the crowd. _"Citizens of Hellfire City! Please remain calm! By order of the Plutarkian Occupation, all civilians are to relocated to a safe area until such time as they may reenter their homes and businesses. This is not a request!"_

"Those bastards just expect us to go quietly after this!" Axle cried, outraged. He looked up to see a Plutarkian solder walking towards them, two others following after him. "Citizens, I have been instructed to have you accompany us to a convoy that will take you to the shelter." he announced.

"Like hell we will! You open fire on a bunch of innocent children and you expect us to just follow orders quietly?" Axle screamed, moving away from his wife and children.

He grabbed hold of the lead fish and shook him violently. "You nearly killed my son you son of a bitch!"

The other two solders lifted their weapons and leveled them with Axle's face, ready to fire if necessary.

"NO!" Jewel screamed as Smoke began shrieking and squirming in her arms.

Stoker came from behind the left solider then, yanking the gun from his hand and crashing his elbow into the fish's face, sending spit and teeth flying as he kicked him to the ground. The other turned to retaliate but Zanatos came up on him from behind and got him in a choke hold as Stoker slammed the barrel of his gun into the fish's gut, knocking the wind out him.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size, bait-butt!" Stoker shouted, kicking the alien as he laid on the ground.

Axle threw the soldier he'd been holding to the ground as well, but soon they found themselves flanked on all sides by other Plutarkians, all who were armed to the teeth and ready to fire.

The nearest ones crashed into Axle, Stoker, and Zanatos, forcing them to the ground and holding the barrel of their guns to back of their heads.

"Get off them!" Modo shouted moving forward to help, but Rose held her son back.

"One more move out of any of you and we'll shoot!" one of the fish warned.

"Listen to them, baby bros!" Stoker grunted, though his face was being smashed into the ground. "We'll be fine. Just do what they ask."

"But Stoke!" Throttle protested, but Jewel pulled her son against her and held him there.

Bingo tried to go to Zanatos, but Vinnie pulled her next to him, hugging her tightly as she began to cry.

"That's better. Take these three away, we'll deal with them later. The rest of you, into the convoys. Single file, please."


	5. The Shelter

Chapter 5: The Shelter

The shelter turned out to be a refurnished factory about twenty miles east of Hellfire City. The Plutarkians had bought it months ago, apparently during one of their first visits to the city. The factory was actually shaped in one gigantic rectangle, with four separate buildings that were surrounded on all sides by a tall length of security fences, and then a large expanse of open grass-land. The West Side of the compound had been turned into a housing area for the Mice, containing three floors of rooms which held currently 200 hundred of the city's occupants. Others had been taken to several other satellite camps that seemed to encompass the city. The South Wing, which was the furthest from the other three buildings, housed the Plutarkian over-seers.

The North Wing was the part of the old building that remained in tact. It was still a working facility, but for the moment only Plutarkians occupied that particular building. No Martians had been seen going in or out. Connected by a long window-filled corridor was the East Wing, which is where food and supplies were currently being held. And where our young friends found themselves having their first lunch, the day after their arrival.

Bingo, Modo, Vinnie, Jessie, and Throttle sat at their assigned table in the shelter cafeteria, staring down with unbelieving eyes at what was considered their "meal."

Bingo blinked and timidly touched it with her finger. The puke green blob that oozed out of the plastic container gurgled at her touch and wiggled like gelatin.

"Ewww." they moaned in chorus with each other.

"My mama always said; 'Don't play with your food, eat it.'" Modo quoted.

"Well, can you technically consider this food?" Vinnie asked poking the green ooze with his fork, which after about three pokes was actually sucked into it.

"Hey!" Vinnie shouted to his breakfast, "You give that back you reject from a horror movie!" he warned.

Suddenly his sister threw her arms tightly around his neck. "Ew! Mine's got an eyeball in it!" she squealed. Vinnie leaned over and examined his sister's plate, seeing a pale white, round object floating in the green slime.

"Cool..." he mused.

Throttle and Modo sat next to each other, looking down at their meal with stomachs' growling.

"I'm so hungry," Throttle sighed.

"Me too." Modo replied, his stomach gurgling in response.

"Do you think this stuff is edible?" he asked then.

"Probably not." Throttle sighed, shaking his head.

"Well...no guts no glory! I'm so hungry I could eat a horse!" Modo declared.

"A horse maybe, but this? Something tells me this stuff has no nutritional value whatsoever." Throttle said.

He turned his attention then to the other mice surrounding him. There had been no word of Stoker, his father, or Zanatos yet, and it began to worry him.

It didn't seem right that they should have been kept for so long. But then, this whole situation didn't seem right. Not right at all.

He leaned towards the others, speaking in hushed tones. "We've got to get out of here and find what they did with them." he whispered.

Bingo nodded worriedly, "I hope Pop is okay." she said. Vinnie patted her back gently.

"What do you think they did with them? Put them in jail or something?" Modo asked his friends.

Throttle shrugged, "It's possible, but we still would have heard something by now I would have thought. I mean, this place is pretty small, and we would have seen where they were keeping them."

"What about the North building?" Jessie asked suddenly. "No Mice are allowed in there."

The small group turned their attention out the large glass windows that peered out onto the work yard. They could see part of the North Wing from where they sat, it's windows all darkened with the blinds drawn down over them.

"Maybe we're not supposed to know they're here." Vinnie mused out loud. "Maybe it's really a holding cell for people who make trouble."

"I don't know about you bros, but I have a feeling that this shelter is a more than meets the eye." Modo whispered, so as not to be overheard by anyone else around them.

"I think you're right, Modo. There's defiantly something fishy going on around here." Throttle answered.

"Yeah, big, fat and smelly fishy." Jessie said, wrinkling her nose.

There was a seven o'clock curfew set for the occupants of the shelter, and as seven approached, Throttle and his friends parted ways and the young tan mouse headed back towards the room he and his mother and brother were staying in.

The room was about the size of a small hotel room, containing two beds, a bathroom, a small table with four chairs, and a couch. Other than that the room was sparsely furnished. Television was unheard of, and radio transmissions were all jammed.

Most likely it would be another night of playing with Smoke to keep him calm and entertained until he got bored and fell asleep. He opened the door to his room to find his mother sitting at the small table, her hands to her face, crying softly. Smoke was lying on the bed, napping.

"Mom?" Throttle asked softly, walking into the room.

Jewel looked up, a bit startled at the sight of her son. "Honey! I didn't hear you come in." she said, putting on a smile and trying to wipe her eyes before he could see how red they were.

"Mom, why are you crying?" Throttle asked, his guts twisting a bit at the number of possibilities that entered his mind at that question. He took the chair next to his mom and studied her carefully.

"It's nothing, honey. I'm just worried about your father." she answered.

Throttle nodded solemnly. For a moment he thought about telling his mother about the theory he and his bros had come up with, but then he thought best not to. He had no idea who could be listening in on them, after all.

The young mouse stared at his hands for a moment, then his eyes glanced over a worn-out pack of cards that were laying on the table. "Want to play a card game, mom?" he asked, picking the deck up.

Jewel looked at him from behind her folded hands for a moment, and then smiled and kissed his cheek. "Sure, honey. What game do you want to play?" she asked, trying very hard to be brave for him. But it was actually Throttle who was being brave for _her_.

"How about fifty-two card pick up!" Throttle laughed, sending them flying everywhere.

Jewel giggled.

That night, in his own room, Modo slept curled up on the bed he shared with his young nephew Rimfire, while his mother, sister, and niece slept in the next bed. The big gray-furred mouse was brought out of his deep sleep by a faint popping noise coming from outside that sounded a bit like fire-crackers going off.

Blinking sleepily and shifted the little boy who lay so close to him so that he wouldn't be disturbed, he climbed out of bed, and made his way over to the small window across the room. Phobos and Demos were out in full tonight, and the night outside seemed much brighter than the dark little room they occupied.

He peered down into the yard to see several large, blob-ish figures, who were really Plutarkians, gathered around a Martian Mouse. Modo pressed his nose against the glass in the darkness, trying to make out who the man was, but he didn't recognize him. The Plutarkians surrounded the other mouse, at first they only appeared to be talking, and then one of the aliens punched the man across the face, making him take a step back.

Another one from behind him thrust the butt of his gun into the man's back, forcing him to his knees. They all crowded around him, kicking and punching. A deep well of anger began to form in the pit of Modo's gut. He tugged on the window pane until it came open with aloud "swoosh" and leaned his head out into the night air.

"HEY! LEAVE HIM ALONE! THREE AGAINST ONE AIN'T FAIR!" he shouted.

"Modo...?" Lida's voice drifted from the inside of the little room, but Modo ignored it. Apparently the fish below him on the grounds heard him because they looked up then, ceasing what they were doing.

"CLOSE THAT WINDOW!" one of the shouted up to him.

"WHOSE GONNA MAKE ME?" Modo called back.

Two of the fish abandoned their current victim and started towards the building, but Modo did not close the window.

Suddenly Lida was at his side, her hand on her younger brother's shoulder. "Modo what are you doing?" she demanded, turning him around to face her. Lida's long brown hair hung in tangles around her face, her bright red eyes wide.

"They were beating on that poor guy! Three against one ain't a fair fight!" Modo explained. "Someone had to tell them to stop."

Lida opened her mouth to say something, but it was drowned out by the sound of someone knocking harshly on their door.

Rimfire and Emily had clambered into bed with their grandmother, who looked sternly at the door as her children stared.

A moment later it swung open and two officers stepped inside, looking very unhappy. "I told you to close that window, boy." one said, pointing at Modo.

Lida moved to do so, but Modo stepped away from her and walked up to the aliens. "What did that guy do to deserve a beating like that?" he asked.

"That is none of your concern, boy. I suggest you get back in your bed before I put you there permanently." the Plutarkian replied, thrusting his finger against Modo's chest.

Rose was up suddenly, looking irate. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but it is not your place to discipline my son. I will not have anyone speak so rudely to a member of my family." she said scoldingly.

The Plutarkian turned to look at the elder woman who now addressed him, and back-handed her hard across the face. Rose cried out and grabbed her cheek as Emily gasped in shock and Rimfire began to whimper and squirm.

"Mama!" Modo and Lida both cried, Lida running to her mother's side.

Modo turned with furious eyes to the officers, his fist clenched. He leapt upon the officer that had struck his mother, landing a hard right hook across his jaw and then a painful jab to where his nose should have been. Modo felt the satisfying crunch of bone and cartilage breaking under his knuckles as the fish went down for the count. The other man moved to stop Modo but the big grey-furred teenager whirled into a round-house kick and sent the other man tumbling out into the hallway with a cry of shock.

Modo then reached down and dragged the first man into the hallway, which was quickly filling up with surprised citizens at all the commotion. He slammed him up against the wall, holding him there.

"Don't you ever put another slimy fin on my mama, you understand?" Modo snarled. The officer nodded weakly, blood pouring out his nostrils.

"Modo!" a familiar voice suddenly came from down the hall. Modo turned his head to see Vinnie pushing through the crowd of astonished on-lookers, followed by Throttle and Bingo.

"Bro what are you doing?" Vinnie cried, looking at the two incapacitated guards that Modo had apparently knocked on their asses.

"Modo Maverick, you put that man down immediately!" Rose said suddenly from the doorway. Modo looked back at his mother. Rose's face was flushed, and stern.

Modo let the fish slump to the ground with a moan. "Sorry, mama." he said. But Modo wasn't sorry at all.

"What is going on here!" another voice shouted this time.

A path cleared as two more Plutarkian guards appeared in the hall, looking down in amazement at their fellow fish lying on the ground, and Modo standing over top of them.

"You! Stay where you are!" the man cried, moving forward, looking very pissed off.

"They started it!" Lida said suddenly from the doorway. She was having trouble keeping her two curious children inside the room and out of harm's way. "They attacked him, for no reason!"

"Well we have a reason now, don't we?" The Plutarkian said, pulling out something that looked like a shortened version of a cattle-prod from his belt. He thrust it into Modo's stomach.

Modo howled as a firy-electric shock surged through his insides, making him double over in pain.

"Leave him alone!" Vinnie demanded as Modo dropped to his knees on the ground, holding himself.

The Plutarkian thrust the rod towards Vinnie's face. "You want some too, junior?" he asked, just itching to lay into the little twerp. Vinnie hesitated.

The Plutarkian smiled and looked back at Modo, whom he pushed over with his foot, grinding the heel of his boot into the youth's ribs. "Let that be a lesson to you." he said triumphantly. He looked up at the crowd. "The rest of you back to your rooms! Now!"

The Mice slowly dissipated, half terrified, half furious. Rose bent over Modo, helping him sit up as her son groaned uneasily. "As for you," the fish said as Modo looked angrily up at him. "Anymore trouble, and you'll get much, much worse than a little sting."

The other men gathered up their beaten comrades and began to make their way back down the hall. Throttle and Vinnie stared furiously after them, clenching and unclenching their fist as Bingo bent over Modo.

"Big bro, are you alright?" she asked.

Modo smiled at her, though he winced as his mother helped him get to his feet. "Actually little bro, I feel great." he said, looking after their enemy as they slunk away.

Two weeks passed this way, full of ignorance of the outside world and dulled by endless boredom and lethargy. Summer was upon the Mice, and being cramped in doors was not how they longed to spend their time. They ached for the freedom of their old lives, of news of the invasion, of anything that might tell them where they went from here. But for now they seemed to be stuck in a sort of limbo, cut off from the outside world.

Throttle yawned lazily and stretched out his body like a lazy house-cat, then flopped over backwards and lay on his back in the bright warm sunshine and sighed. "Ah, feel that sun, eh bros?" he asked looking towards his constant companions as they joined him out in the yard.

Vinnie sat beside him, absorbed in his CD player, music going full blast in his gigantic ears. Modo sat on the other side of him, flipping through the well-worn pages of a Biker Knight comic book.

"Huh? What'd ya say bro?" he asked absentmindedly.

Throttle chuckled and shook his head, then turned his gaze up to the orange sky. There was still no word from his father or the others. Not one in two weeks. Half dozing, Throttle thought perhaps they had escaped and were biding their time to come and rescue them.

"Hi guys!"

Throttle opened an eye-lid sleepily and peered in the direction of the noise to see Bingo making her way towards them, magazine in her hand.

"Hi Bingo," Throttle said as she muscled her way in between Vinnie and himself, tugging at the half-open neck of her tank-top, trying to cool herself off.

"It's a warm one, ain't it?" she asked.

Throttle nodded contentedly. "So what's up?" he asked.

"I found something you guys are gonna like." she said grinning as she unrolled the book in her hand and held it up for all to see. It was a motorcycle magazine, filled with all the latest models.

At that moment Vinnie and Modo became very aware of their surroundings.

"Did someone say motorcycles?" Modo asked, his eyes full of a gleam that hadn't be seen there since they entered this place.

Vinnie made a grab over his little bro's shoulder, trying to pry the object of interest from her hands.

"Hey! I found it first!" Bingo snapped at him, yanking it out of his reach.

"So?" Vinnie asked, still trying to pull it out of her hands. Bingo thrust her palm in Vinnie's face, pushing him away.

"Where'd you get that little bro?" Modo asked curiously. "No mail has been in or out of here since we got here."

"I bought it off some kids for a couple sticks of gum." Bingo shrugged.

"Hey bros, check it out!" Throttle said suddenly, pointing out one of the center-folds.

"What a naked girl?" Vinnie asked curiously, leaning into Bingo to get a better look at the magazine, since she was holding it.

"No you perv! This!" Throttle said pointing to the picture of a stunning black Harley Davidson motorcycle.

"Dude, that's an Earth model!" Modo said, peering over top of Bingo's head, being the tallest.

"Yep, says it was manufactured from recycled Earth parts and constructed with top-of-the-line Martian technology." Bingo said, reading the description below.

"That's the one, bros. I'm gonna make her mine." Throttle said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, how you gonna do that?" Vinnie wondered looking at his older bro.

"I've been saving up for a beauty like this since I was on training-wheels, bros. By now I've got to have enough." the tan-furred mouse replied.

"Yeah, just one problem." Modo sighed, gesturing around him. "We're in here–the bike's out there!" he said, pointing beyond the electric fences out into the open fields and desert that surrounded them.

"We'll be out of here someday." Throttle answered.

Abruptly the calm of the early summer's morning was broken by a long wail of a siren.

"What the–?" Vinnie began as they all got to their feet, looking around anxiously. The once lazy atmosphere of the shelter was suddenly alive and tense.

The other people in the yard all looked around, trying to find why the sirens were going off. Had their been a problem? Was a storm coming?

Guards began filtering out into the yard then and headed towards the Mice. "Stay where you are!" two of them said, pointing towards the kids.

Modo's tail lashed behind him nervously. He had not forgotten about that night he'd been attacked by these people, and he would not forget it anytime soon either.

"Steady..." Throttle instructed to them under his breath. "Let's see what they want."

Bingo reached out and grabbed Vinnie's hand, making the white-furred mouse blink and then blush slightly.

"Come with me." said the approaching Plutarkian.

"What's going on?" Bingo asked.

The fish shook his head and put a hand on her shoulder, ushering them forward. "Don't ask questions now, just come along." he insisted.

Modo lowered his defense just slightly. At least this guard seemed to have some manners in him. They marched slowly towards the door, and over-whelming feeling of dread and wariness filling them.

They were met with other Mice who were heading in the same direction, towards the cafeteria.

"Maybe they want to show us the new lunch menu?" Vinnie shrugged.

As they filtered into the crowded room, they met up with their families.

"Hey mom, what's going on?" Throttle asked as he and his friends made his way over to where their mothers stood, minding the youngest children.

"I don't know, honey." Jewel said adjusting Smoke on her shoulder as the baby burped and gurgled at the site of his older brother.

Throttle looked at his little hair-ball of sibling disdainfully and turned his attention on Rimfire and Emily, who were climbing all over Modo.

Each exit of the room was being heavily guarded by at least six guards, and they were sure more were standing outside.

"What the hell is going on?" Relena wondered aloud as Jessie clung uneasily to her skirt.

They were about to find out.

"Quiet, you parasites!" someone roared.

The room immediately fell silent.

The Plutarkian who had shouted, the leader dressed entirely in black, smiled. "That's better." he said. He walked slowly up and down and across huddled rows of Martians smiling smugly. "You'd probably all like to know what's going on here, correct? Well, allow me to enlighten you." he said, chuckling slightly.

"This shelter has come under my control. This isn't a vacation home any more boy's and girls. You're going to stay here, you're going to work. All of you. Naturally, you'll still be provided for. All able adults are to work in the mines, children ten and under will be sent to day-care and the others will be sent to our work facility. Anyone who can not work will be sent to their quarters and work found for them. Anyone who causes trouble, will be shot."

A gasp went up from the crowd.

"You can't do that!" someone shouted.

The Plutarkian's lip curled into a sneer. "I can. And I will."

"Bring out those trouble makers. Maybe we can put them to some use here." the man said.

Suddenly a group of three Martian Mice were dragged out in front of the crowd. All of them looked in pretty bad shape, ragged and dirty. Throttle suddenly recognized one of them and his heart gave a great leap.

"DAD!" he cried.

A very haggard looking Axle peered burly eyed across the crow. "Throttle?" he murmured.

Throttle broke free from his mother and ran up through the crowd, but just before he could reach his father, a whip came lashing down heavily in front of him.

"Back in line!" a hooded rat commanded.

Axle looked down at him sadly. "No, son. Don't cause any trouble." he said softly.

"But dad," the young mouse began, but then he looked warily at the rat looming in front of him. From this close he could see the other Mice close up and recognized Zanatos and a few other men, but there was no sign of Stoker.

He watched numbly as his father was dragged away, followed by Bingo's guardian and many others.

"You men will be sent to the mines to begin excavation. Details will be explained later," said the man in black. The guards surrounding the doors moved forward then, pulling the adult males from their families and rounding them up like cattle and herding them from the room. Once they had gone, the remaining were escorted to their rooms.

"We'll give you sometime with your families. Tomorrow morning, all children over the age of ten will be taken to the factory to begin their jobs."

Hours later, the horrible words still echoed in Rose's head. Her only son was about to be dragged off to some God forsaken factory to do lord knows what kind of dangerous work. And what of her daughter? Her grandchildren? It was taxing on an old woman to have to think of such things.

She looked over at Modo who was lying in bed next to little Rimfire. She climbed out of her bed carefully and bent down beside him and put a hand on her son's shoulder.

Modo awoke instantly at her touch and blinked up at his mother. "Mama? Somethin' the matter?" he asked.

Rose smiled at her boy. "Nothin, darlin'. But I need to talk to you." she said. Modo sat up up, looking expectantly at her.

"Modo, after tomorrow...I don't know what's going to happen to me or your sister and the kids. But there is the possibility that we won't be seeing each other for awhile." she began uneasily.

Modo took his mother's hand. "Mama, don't say things like that." he pleaded. "Everything will be alright,"

Rose looked sadly at him. "Honey, we can't pretend anymore. We're at war now, and we're prisoners of that war. There's no guarantee of what will happen next."

"Mama..." Modo began, unsure of what to say.

Rose hugged her son and scratched the place on the back of his ears as her hid his face in her shoulder. After awhile they broke apart, and Rose was surprised to see the expression on her son's face was one of the utmost determination.

"Don't you worry about a thing, Mama. I'll handle everything." he said, smiling at her.

Rose smiled and brushed a hand across his cheek. "Your daddy used to say the same thing."she said.

Modo had not gone back to sleep that night. He sat awake on the bed next to his family, watching, waiting. He was scared to be honest, but he was the man of the house now. It was his job to protect the people he loved. For a moment Modo contemplated waking Lida up so he could talk to her, but then decided against it. He wasn't sure what tomorrow had in store for them, and she would probably need all the rest she could get.

Suddenly a noise from the hall sent Modo's ears twitching and he looked up. Shouts were coming from the hall, accompanied by the sounds of heavy boots on the wooden floors. Modo jumped to his feet as the sounds were suddenly outside his door.

He felt Rimfire stand up on the bed behind him. "Uncle Modo?" he asked sleepily. Modo glanced back his nephew. "Go back to sleep, Rimmy." he said, not thinking about how absurd the suggestion was.

"Mommy?" Emily said, as Lida sat up, staring at the door. Outside they heard screams and people crying.

"Keep the kids back, sis!" Modo said rushing towards the door.

"Modo what are you doing!" Lida demanded.

The door came open with a pop and slammed against the wall as it swung open, two armed guards appearing in it's wake.

"Nobody make a move!" the fish on the left shouted.

"Don't you know it's rude to come into someone's house uninvited?" Modo snarled, cracking his knuckles.

"We don't want any trouble, kid. You and the girl come with us and nobody gets hurt." The one on the right answered. Modo recognized him as the soldier that escorted he and his bros into the cafeteria earlier that day.

"Oh someone's gonna get hurt alright. You!" Modo cried throwing himself into the man on the right. He grappled with the guard for a moment or two, but soon found himself overwhelmed when the fish pinned him to the wall, twisting his arm hard behind his back.

"Get off me!" Modo shouted.

"You leave my brother alone, you bastard!" Lida cried running toward the fish, but found herself suddenly swept up by the other guard and being hauled across his back. "Put me down!" she screamed, pounding furiously on his back.

"Mommy!" Rimfire and Emily cried as Rose held the two young mice back, watching helpless as her children were being ripped from her life.

"I'll save you mommy!" Emily said suddenly, pulling out of Rose's hold and darting across the room towards them.

"Emily no! Get back in bed!" Modo gasped, staring wide-eyed at the young girl as she began beating her tiny fist on her mother's assailant.

"You leave my mommy alone you big mean man!" she demanded.

The man looked down in irritation at the little girl. "Get off me you little runt." he snapped, swatting at her.

The fish who had Modo looked at his partner. "Let it go, man. She's just a baby."

Emily then grabbed hold of the man's hand as he swatted her and chomped down hard on it.

"AH!" the Plutarkian hissed, yanking his hand out of her mouth. "The little bitch drew blood!"

Modo thrust backwards hard against the man that held him, but could not break his grip.

The Plutarkian grabbed the little girl in his free hand and lifted her by her neck before flinging her like a rag-doll across the room.

Modo stared, eyes wide, as he watched Emily slam into the bed post and heard the sickening crack of the little girl's skull against the metal post.

"NO!" Modo roared as Emily slumped forward, blood pouring from the back of her head. Rose and Lida screamed, the grandmother bending over the little girl's broken body.

"MY BABY!" Lida screamed hysterically.

The fish that held Modo stared incredulously at his partner. "What the hell did you do that for, you jack-ass, she was just a kid!"

"MURDERERS!" Modo shouted, slamming his head back against his attacker, cracking the visor on his helmet. The guard's grip was effectively loosened, allowing Modo to break free and go after the other guard.

The man pulled his blaster from it's holster and pointed it squarely at Modo's head. "Want a piece of this rodent?" he asked.

"STAND DOWN!" The fish behind Modo shouted, wrapping an arm around Modo's throat and dragging him backwards before forcing him the ground and stepping on him to keep him there. "I SAID STAND DOWN!"

"Modo do what they say!" Rose pleaded.

Modo threw a horrified look at his mother who was holding Emily in her lap as Rimfire sat frozen on the bed.

"Go with them, Modo." she ordered.

A moment later the grey mouse and his sister was dragged from the room, leaving Rose sobbing in the aftermath.

They wrestled Modo out into the crowded hall way, where he was greeted by the sight of Throttle being dragged out of his own room, with his mother slumped in the doorway, sobbing.

"Bro!" Throttle cried looking at Modo, but he was soon thrust in the opposite direction and marched forward. Ahead of them they could see another fish with Vinnie and Jessie tossed over each shoulder, the twins screaming and kicking.

The herd of abducted Martians and their captors made their way across the yard towards the mysterious North Wing.

Inside they found a large open warehouse area, scattered with miscellaneous machines and conveyer belts. The room was dark and dimly lit, and littered with Plutarkians and Rats as it slowly filled up with the captive mice.

"Bros!" Bingo cried out suddenly as she watched her friends filter into the room. She made her way over to them as Vinnie and Jessie were dumped gracelessly to the floor in a heap, followed by Throttle.

Throttle opened his arms and Bingo threw herself into them, shaking with fear. "What's going on? What are they gonna do with us?" she asked the other mouse as he held her tightly.

"I don't know, Bing' I don't know." Throttle murmured.

Modo and Lida entered the room then, and the moment they tried to release Modo he turned on them again, screaming and cursing like a maniac. The guard cracked his club across Modo's head and sent the tall grey mouse to the ground unconscious.

"MODO!" Throttle and Vinnie yelled as Jessie and Bingo stared. Vinnie clambered over to his big bro as Lida slumped to the floor, sobbing, and looked his friend over.

"Is he alright?" Throttle asked, he and Bingo bending down beside him.

"He's gonna have one hell of a bump on his noggin when he wakes up." Vinnie said, touching the huge bruise that was blossoming across Modo's forehead. Bingo tore off part of her pant-leg and wrapped it around Modo's forehead and Throttle laid the big grey mouse's head in his lap and looked around him anxiously.

Panic rippled through the group of huddled teenagers until a voice interrupted their fearful musings. "Listen you little brats!" someone at the head of the crowd shouted.

A hush fell over the room as they turned to see who had addressed them. The Plutarkian who had addressed them earlier that day appeared again, looking angrily out at all of them. "If you cry, we'll kill you." he warned.

Vinnie and Jessie exchanged fearful glances as they eyed the way they were all surrounded by armed guards. It might have been a bluff, but even if it was, it was effective.

"Sorry about our little surprise intrusion, but we couldn't have any of you trying to sneak out now could we? It wouldn't be fair to the other workers." he said, talking to them in a calm, matter-of-fact voice as though he were the teacher and they were his students.

"From now on my little maggots, you're not going to imagine life. You're going to experience it! We will whip those foolish childhood fantasies from your minds and teach you what life is really like. How cruel and unforgiving the world can be. So this is the run down, children," he paused and looked them over, smiling insidiously to himself. "If you work hard and do as you are told, things will go well for you. But..." he put great emphasis on that word. "If I have any trouble from you, you will be severely punished. From this moment on you no longer belong to your parents. You belong to _me_. For it is _I_ who will shelter you, it is _I_ who will feed you, it is _I_ who will clothe you, and it is _I_ who will care for you. Is that understood, maggots?"

The speech was met with numb silence.

The Plutarkian smiled broadly at them as they cringed and coward before him. "Very good." he said approvingly. He cracked his whip above their heads, shocking them with his sudden mood change.

There was another snapping sound, where it came from on one could be truly certain, but the next moment blows rained down on them. They felt the hot sting of the whip lashing against their flesh. There were many cries of pain and surprise as they tried to cover themselves. This only led to harder, more viscous blows. They were whipped until they bleed, and when the guards got tired, more of them came in and they bleed more.


	6. Stoker's Escape

Chapter 6: Stoker's Escape

His body dripping with sweat, Stoker BlackRuby hauled up another wheel barrel full of minerals out of the mine shaft. The light on his helmet was barely enough to allow him to maintain a clear view of what was ahead.

Suddenly, then, a blinding light flashed before him. The door to the mine had opened and two figures had appeared in the doorway. If his nose wasn't clogged up with dirt and dust, he would have caught wind that they were Plutarkians.

"You!" shouted one of them, pointing a lazor directly at Stoke. Stoke looked around at a few of the other miners, though he knew it was he who had been targeted.

"Yeah?"

"Up here! Now!"

Stoker set down the wheel barrel and walked up the few wooden steps and out of the small door. This entrance was very rarely used, as it was so close to the main door. But he sighed and reserved himself to it. There was no way he could fight back, he realized.

As soon as he was pulled from the mine, the two Plutarkians grabbed hold of his arms and forced him to march across the courtyard. He could see where they were going–to the South Wing. Even from here, and even with all the dust that was in his system, he could smell the stink coming from the complex.

Stoker was forced up the long flight of stairs until they finally stopped on the third floor and made their way towards a pair of office doors. After a few minutes, the doors opened and the dirty, chocolate-furred mouse found himself face-to-face with a rather ugly looking Plutarkian.

He immediately dismissed Stoker's escorts.

"Please, remain standing. I don't want dirt all over my office." The Plutarkian said off-handedly.

"Then what is it you want?" Stoker grunted.

"I understand you are Stoker BlackRuby?"

"That's right." Stoker nodded.

"Rumor is that your wife and daughter were murdered some years back."

Stoker stiffened and stared steely eyed at the Plutarkian. "Your point?"

"You tired to accuse the Plutarkians, did you not?"

"I asked you what your point was, you stink-faced bastard."

The Plutarkian pulled out a long rod and shoved it into Stoker's gut. Stoker felt a surge of electricity where it prodded him. His entire body lurched over, but the Plutarkian wouldn't let him fall. The rod was sent against his shoulder, forcing Stoker to wince backwards.

"You will learn that you can not oppose us. Not in courts nor in battle."

Stoker glared at him, then did something he did not expect. He forced his dry lips together, then released a shot of saliva. The spit went sailing across the air and landed right on the Plutarkian's face.

"Go back to Hell," Stoker cursed.

"GUARDS!" roared the Plutarkian. "Get him out of her and take him out back!"

The guards returned and hauled the Mouse down stairs. Stoker knew what was waiting for him. But for the look on the Plutarkians face when the spit smacked him...it was well worth it.

Sometime later, the door to the mine was reopened and Axle had to cover his eyes from the blinding light. A figure was thrown down onto the mine floor. Axle looked to Jewel and the pair ran over.

Stoker laid there, bloodied and bruised.

"Stoker?" exclaimed Axle. Jewel began to quickly nurse his wounds, eyes making sure the others weren't watching.

"Me...I'm here..."

Just then, the a whistle sounded. The mines were to empty for the day. Axle and Jewel helped Stoker to his blistered feet.

They had the next forty-five minutes to reassemble with their families before they were to report to the cafeteria. The pair helped Stoker over to the medical room, located at the foot of the North Wing, and run by a few nurses and a couple of doctors they had rounded up.

Rose, who was there with young Rimfire, gasped at the sight of Stoker's mangled body. "Oh no," she gasped, hugging her grandson.

One of the doctors came running out to greet them.

"We'll get you some bandages right away, Mr. BlackRuby," he assured as Axle handed the injured mouse over to him.

"You're in good hands, Stoke." the tan-furred mouse assured his friend.

"Axle..." started Stoker as he reached for Axle's hand.

"What is it, bro?"

"When they were beating me...I realized something." he said with a painful smile.

"What?" Axle asked, looking at him carefully.

"I'm getting the fuck outta this...outta this place..."

Axle looked at him with concerned eyes but sighed. There was no way out of here. They were trapped.

Much later that night, four guards walked into the Medical room and handed a few papers to the over night doctor. He looked them over and started to protest. As soon as he did, a lazor pistol was produced.

The doctor sighed and stepped aside. The four of them made their way over to Stoker's bed and pulled the Martian from his sleep. Stoker, barely able to move, was forced out into the courtyard. He was then thrown down onto the ground. His bandages were removed and each of the Plutarkians spat on him, their thicky gooey salvia dosing his body in germs.

As they walked off, Stoker smiled and found himself laughing at them. A slight chuckle, this soon turned into a full-force laugh. The Plutarkians either didn't hear or didn't care, because they just kept on walking. Finally, Stoker was somehow able to get enough strength to lift himself up.

He grabbed hold of a rock and chucked it at one of the guards. It smacked him right in the back of the head. The guard spun around and ran right towards Stoker.

With one swift kick across the face, the brown-furred mouse was unconscious.

With a smile on his face.

As dawn broke, Stoker was literally thrown in the Medical room. Over the next few hours, Stoker slowly regained some of his strength. But sadly, the wounds had received multiple infections due to being left out in the open all night without bandages.

Strangely, the next day, Stoker insisted on going back to the mines. Axle had protested a number of times as Stoker pushed more wheel barrels of rocks up to the surface, then went at breaking up more–but Stoker wouldn't listen.

"I know you're up to something," he said after the third day. It was nearing dusk and the day was over.

"Do you?" Stoker said, a mischievous smile on his worn and bruised face.

"Yeah. I saw you take some rocks today, Stoke, when the guards weren't looking. You stuffed them in your pockets. Stoker, you can't risk pissing off anyone else. Your wounds are barely even healed!"

"Don't you worry about it, Axle. I've got it under control."

As soon as he said that, however, Stoker's left leg gave out. Axle barely caught him in time. "Right. Sure you do."

He helped his friend back to his room. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Stoker answered. "But I need some sleep."

Axle nodded and left Stoker alone. As soon as the door shut, he sighed and laid down on the crappy little cot he had been assigned. Then he pulled off his boots.

They never checked his boots.

He ripped open the soles and found a butterfly knife in each one. Stoker smiled and then looked at the pile of rocks he had gathered. "Tomorrow's gonna be fun," he muttered as he drifted off to sleep.

Far away from the concerns of Stoker BlackRuby, Dominic T. Stilton sat back in his chair and looked at the large screen in front of him.

"This is nice," he told himself, munching on a small bowl of slime worms.

The map displayed current military patterns. The Sand Raiders were moving West, pushing South of where Sentry City once was. It, like Hellfire, had been bought out by the Plutarkians. Most of the population had been killed or placed in prison camps that were run by Plutarkians with hired San Raiders and Rats to keep the Martians under control.

"Sir," announced his secretary, "we're getting a call from President Dorlin."

"Patch it through."

The screen changed quickly to show the President's worn face. "Stilton, I..."

"Hello, Mr. President. Love what you've done with the military. I'm glad to see where you've moved them. Right out of harms way, just as it should be. Nice to know money buys loyalty."

"Or the opposite." Dorlin sighed. "I can't believe I'm being paid to keep my own people going in the wrong direction."

"What you're being paid for, President Dorlin," began Stilton, "is to keep your Martian military forces away from the Plutarkians and Sand Raider forces. When we're done here, you'll be the richest man on Mars."

The President smiled meekly. "Thank you, sir."

"No, Mr. President, thank _you_."

The screen clicked off. Stilton frowned sourly and pressed a button and his assistant Harold entered. "Sir?"

The Plutarkian over-lord stood up and paced the room. "Dorlin's loyalty is wavering. I want him taken care of."

"But what about the military, sir? Without Dorlin, won't they start moving against us?"

"Harold," Stilton began, "there are many other in the Martian government on my payroll other than Dorlin. Others that will gladly take their fair share of Dorlin's price."

Stoker had a plan. After eating an extra-large breakfast, the Martian Mouse headed towards the mines. But as the large crowd began to enter, his eyes fell upon the huge concrete barrier that had been installed behind the courtyard. As the top of the wall, were three electrically-charged lines that ran the length of the wall.

This was the only side of the camp that had the wall; the rest of it hadn't been installed yet. But Stoker needed it for his plan.

As Stoker pushed a wheel barrel out of the mines, he inwardly grinned, knowing what was to come. Inside the barrel was an explosive compound. It would take a lot to ignite it, true, but he was up for that little challenge.

He turned to the generator that charged the three lines. There was a large cable that led up to the lines. While it was rather big, it was lose at the ends. Stoker glanced around, then pulled out a pointed and quiet sharp rock from his pocket. Quickly, he targeted the lose part of the cable–then let the stone fly.

It struck right on target. The cable flopped around for a bit, smacking against the concrete wall.

His eyes saw that the guards realized what was going on. Stoker didn't have much time. His body still aching from his previous injuries, he pushed the wheel barrel forward.

Stoker's body lurched in pain then as he felt a hot beam of lazor energy strike his back. But he did not yield. He kept moving–faster and faster–towards the flip-flopping cable that sparked wildly.

"Just like a fish out of water," Stoker whispered, grinning oddly at the irony.

He felt another beam strike his shin and Stoker was about to give out when...he ran the wheel barrel right into the cable. It writhed against the material.

Stoker barely covered his face as the explosion rocked the whole camp. The Martian was tossed into the air and landed amongst the debris.

His eyes barely working, he caught sight of the wall–now with a huge shattered section. There was another fence just beyond it, but he wasn't too worried about it.

As Stoker was about to stand up, he felt a hand grab his wrist. It was a Plutarkian. Somehow...out of instinct...he pulled out his knife and dug it into the fat fish's throat. Blood spurted out and Stoker grabbed hold of the fish as lazor fire began to pour at him.

While using the dead body as a shield, the chocolate-furred mouse yanked out its lazor and returned fire. He kept missing, though. He was in bad shape. He pulled back to the fence and turned around, opening part of the last fence and making a run for it.

"AFTER HIM!" screamed the guards.

Stoker feet thundered against the sand, he pushed his way to freedom. Anywhere was better than here, anywhere.

Suddenly, though, a few lazor blasts rang out. A pair of Sand Raider jeeps appeared behind him. One was a few feet ahead of the other. He sighed and prepared himself. Eyes locked on the first jeep, he fired his lazor. He struck one of the Sand Raiders right in the chest.

As the jeep started to go out of control, Stoker mustered his strength and ran for it. He leapt on and threw the body off. A second Sand Raider, he found, was on this vehicle. He knocked him off and sent the Dog flying across the sands.

With these two taken care of, Stoker roared the engine forward. He was still being chased. But Stoker then came up with another idea. He slowed the engine down, allowing the jeep to come up right beside him.

He peered over and saw the Rat who was driving, and realized he was the only one there. Stoker yanked out his knife then and sent it spinning at the Rat. He yelped in pain as it sliced him across the arm. Stoker took advantage of this and shot off the steering wheel, watching as the vechicle went spinning out control.

The Martian slammed his foot onto the gas, and broke away.

He was free.

Some hours later, James Orion was looking out at the evening crowd with sadness in his eyes. Other than a few regulars, it was just about empty. With Hellfire City just about completely evacuated, business had taken a nose-dive. Then...there were the letters.

He sighed and tossed a new batch of death threats and offers into the trash bag, which he then scooped up and tied close. Chaos gave him a sad smile as he walked out the backdoor towards the dumpster. As Jimmy chucked the bag of trash into the large metal box, he heard a meek voice call out his name.

"Jimmy..."

Jimmy spun around and found himself face-to-face with none other than Stoker himself.

"Stoker! I was so worried about you!"

Stoker didn't answer and just collapsed into Jimmy's arms. Jimmy turned to the door as he tried to grasp his best friend.

"CHAOS!" he yelled. "I NEED SOME HELP OUT HERE!"

The white-furred female came rushing to the door, wondering what had happened, when she saw Jimmy gathering Stoker's limp figure up in his arms and rushing towards the door.

"Oh my God, Stoke! Is he–" she began worriedly, staring at the wounded Mouse in her friend's arms.

Jimmy swept past her; "Close the doors, get everyone out." he said shortly as he rushed Stoker past one or two bar flies that were huddled in the back corner of the bar and into his bedroom off the main floor.

"Sorry guys, I gotta throw you out." Chaos said following behind him, shooing away customers.

"Some service..." grunted one of the drunks.

"But we didn't even pay our tab yet..." his companion slurred. Chaos was practically dragging them to the door.

"It's on us! Goodnight, gentlemen, see you tomorrow!" she said, pushing them out the front door and locking it behind them. She turned off the lights to ensure no one else would come looking for a late-night buzz and then came sprinting back to Jimmy's room.

James had Stoker laid out on his bed and was in the process of stripping him of his filthy and blood-stained clothing.

"Jimmy what are you–?" Chaos began.

"Get me some hot water, the first aid kit, and a bottle of whiskey from under the bar." Jimmy instructed her without looking up from his work.

Chaos blinked. "What do you want the whiskey for?" she asked curiously.

"Just get it, sugar, please." Jimmy said shortly.

Chaos sighed, and did as she was told. A moment later she returned with all these items in hand and set them down on Jimmy's night stand, looking worriedly down at Stoker's unconscious form.

"What happened to him?" she asked fearfully.

Jimmy hissed loudly when he peeled away Stoker's shirt and saw huge bruises and welts littering his chest. "Something very unpleasant I'd gather." Jimmy said as he began to clean and disinfect the area.

After about twenty minutes, Stoker's massive wounds had been cleaned, medicated, and bound to Jimmy's satisfaction.

"We should take him to a hospital, Jimmy. He could have broken bones." Chaos said.

"There isn't anything left, sugar. We'd have to drive for miles to get to the next town, and I won't risk moving him in this condition." the blonde-furred mouse said, taking the bottle of whiskey from night-stand and holding it to Stoker's lips.

"Come on, bro...wakey-wakey." Jimmy coaxed, pouring a few drops of the fiery liquid down Stoker's throat.

The chocolate-furred mouse coughed and blinked, gazing at Jimmy with unfocused eyes.

"There you are, sunshine!" Jimmy said, smiling as he set the bottle aside.

"James...?" Stoker said, his voice weak and hoarse. "Where am I?" he asked.

"Safe and sound." Jimmy assured him as Chaos sat down next them.

"Hey, hot stuff." she said looking at him.

Stoker gave her a weak smile. "Hey, beautiful."

"Stoker, what happened to you?" Jimmy asked, growing serious.

The chocolate-furred mouse struggled to remain conscious, but the darkness was quickly winning the battle. "Escaped...from the shelter...not a shelter...prisoner..." he managed before sinking back into blissful sleep.

"What did that mean?" Chaos asked looking to Jimmy.

"It means some bad mojo is going down at there, sweetheart. Really, really bad mojo." Jimmy replied softy.


	7. Foundations

Chapter 7: Foundations

Throttle, Modo, Vinnie, and Bingo spent the next few days doing tedious manual labor. They found themselves assembling gears and motors to jeep and wagons, stocking food stuffs and packing first aid kits. It wasn't hard work, really, but they were kept under the constant and careful watch of the guards who glared at them and struck out of them if they spoke out of line, or indeed, if they spoke at all.

Bingo had just finished sealing a bag of bandages when her finger suddenly throbbed with pain and she realized it was bleeding.

"Ow! A paper cut!" she gasped, sucking on it.

The next thing she knew something smacked her hard in the back of the head. Bingo went flying forward into a box of supplies.

They whirled around to see a fat little guard sneering down at them.

"No talking, chatter-boxes! Get back to work!" he snarled.

Vinnie helped Bingo up as she sniffled miserably and the guard struck her again.

"Shut up!" he yelled in her face.

"You leave her alone!" Vinnie snarled.

Throttle and Modo were slowly standing up, brandishing some long pipes from the engine they were assembling.

"Get back to work! What's the matter with you? Are you deaf?" he shouted, looking worriedly at the two teenage mice. On second glance they realized he wasn't much older then them.

"Not so tough when the big cheese isn't around, are ya?" Modo growled.

"I don't know what gives you gill-faces the idea you can enslave us, but your about to find out we don't take kindly to forced labor!" Throttle added.

"Stay back! I'm warning you!" cried the guard nervously, thrusting his gun in their faces.

The two of them looked at it apprehensively.

"Yeah...not so brave now are you? Not when I'm the one with the gun!" he said with wavering confidence.

Throttle raised the rod he had been holding slightly above his head, "How much you wanna bet I can bash your brains in with the pole before you even get a shot off?" he growled dangerously.

Suddenly the pole was shot out of his hand from behind. Throttle whirled in surprise only to receive a gun-butt to the face.

The tan mouse crashed to the ground, blood spouting from his nose.

"Bro!" Modo gasped grabbing a hold of him.

They all stared into a face of a much bigger, much meaner guard glaring down at them.

"What's going on here?" he demanded testily.

"Sir, these four, they were giving me trouble!" gasped the younger guard.

The new arrival glared at his comrade, "You can't even handle a bunch of scrawny teenagers, Colby? You're pathetic."

He reached down and grabbed hold of Throttle by his collar and dragged him to his feet. "I'll show you how to deal with trouble makers," he said.

"Let him go!" Modo demanded.

The other man ignored him and dragged the boy through the dirt and dust towards a tiny pen on the other side of the yard.

"No! They're gonna put him in there!" Bingo squealed.

Vinnie looked horrified.

Throttle gasped as the big fish lifted him off the ground and opened the lid of the small wooden box.

They two stared each other in the face for a few seconds, Throttle's eyes grew wide with fear.

"If you cry, I'll kill you." the fish said plainly, then tossed the teen into the bow and slammed the lid closed and locked it.

A few seconds later kicking and screaming was heard from inside.

Modo, Vinnie, and Bingo stared at their bro's prison in terror as the guard approached them.

"That goes for you too. Don't wanna end up like your little friend. We'll let him sweat awhile, wait till the sun gets over head, _then_ we'll see how much fight's left in 'im." Cackled the bigger fish.

Vinnie grabbed hold of Modo's arm and shivered as Modo stared at them in disbelief.

It was long after lunchtime when Colby remembered that there was someone still in "the box."

"Well, I guess it's time to see if that baked mouse is done yet," he said smiling maliciously. All toil ceased as the three of them watched him walk over to the pen, unhitch the lid and pull out what was inside.

He tossed Throttle's limp figure onto the sand, where it laid heaving up and down with breath.

"Throttle!" Bingo cried, her hands to her mouth.

At that moment Axle appeared, accompanied by another officer. He was looking anxiously at his son as he laid there in the dirt.

Colby glared at the older mouse, "What's this?" he asked.

"They said I could take care of my boy," Axle grunted. The officer beside him nodded.

Colby looked disgusted and spit on the huddled from writhing in the sand and Axle bent down and scooped up his son, who clung onto him for support, tears running down his face.

"Maybe that'll teach you to mind your manners in the presence of a superior!" Colby boasted as Axle gave him a look fit to kill and silently walked away, leading his son beside him.

"There's nothing superior about you," Modo growled when Colby turned back to him. They stared each other in the eye.

"Hey, don't think I won't put you in there too!" the fish squeaked, but the pure look of hatred in Modo's blood-red eyes struck fear in his heart.

"I'm going to kill you someday, fish face." He said in a lethal tone. "I'm gonna kill you just like you killed my little niece. You just remember that." the grey-furred Martian warned.

Then silently, giving Vinnie and Bingo a nudge, they went back to work.

Colby was shaking.

Stoker had been in and out of wakefulness for a day and a half. To his friends relief he did not have any serious injuries, no broken bones or internal damage. But his recovery would not come as quickly as he liked. When he was coherent enough to speak, he called Jimmy to his side.

"Feeling better are we?" James Orion asked briskly as he walked into his bedroom and pulled up a chair by Stoker's bed. The chocolate-furred Mouse pulled himself into a sitting position, propped against the headboard and several pillows. He nursed a bandaged arm as he spoke.

"Jimmy, the Plutarkians are out for genocide." he began.

It was a pretty heavy statement to start out with. Jimmy felt like he had swallowed a lead brick.

"Genocide?" he asked nervously. "I thought they were out for political take-over?"

"That too. I don't know how deep this goes yet, James, but we're all in deep shit. The so-called shelters these aliens put up to house the victims of their own invasion? They're slave-camps." Stoker said. He unraveled the bandage on his right arm and examined the bruising there.

"But how can the government allow–?" Jimmy began.

"It's simple, they know about it. Or some of them do. Someone high up is authorizing the whole circus, and we're all too blind to see it." the other mouse muttered impatiently.

Though Jimmy knew in his gut that everything Stoker was saying was true, he did not want to believe it. Just when everything had settled down, when life seemed to be getting back on track...they dropped the mother-load.

The blonde-furred mouse tapped the bandage around Stoker's forehead. "Sure you didn't hit your head a little too hard there, pal?" he asked.

Stoker slapped his hand away angrily. "God damn it, James! You think I'm making this shit up! Look at me, Jimmy! _Look at me!_"

Stoker tore away the blankets and revealed all his wounds. Jimmy bit his lip as he stared. There was no denying what was right in front of his face, no matter how much he wanted to. He put a hand on Stoker's shoulder.

"I know, I know you're right. It just...feels like a bad dream." he admitted warily.

Stoker's anger cooled and he nodded, scratching behind his ear. "I know what you mean, bro. But we're both wide awake and it's still here. And we can't just sit by and let it happen."

Jimmy knew where this conversation was going immediately and he didn't like it one bit. Being reckless was one thing, being out-right suicidal was quite another.

"You're planning on going back there, aren't you?" he asked, although he already knew the answer, he saw it in his friend's eyes.

"I have to. I left my friends back there...I can't abandon them." Stoker said. He was testing his legs, bending and flexing them. They still ached and throbbed but he felt he would be able to walk alright.

"You're no good to them a dead man, either." Jimmy said flatly. "You plan on hobbling up to the place on a pair of crutches? You wouldn't make it ten feet and you'd be Sand Squid food."

Stoker shot him an aggravated look. "Then do you want to hide like a coward!" he demanded testily.

Jimmy looked at him placidly. "I don't want you to get your ass shot off being hot-headed, Stoker BlackRuby. You've got a brain, think this through."

Jimmy flat out seriousness knocked some sense into Stoker. As much as he wanted to charge in there, guns blazing, he knew Jimmy was right. It would be a noble stand, and a quick death. Nothing would be accomplished by that. Cooler heads had to prevail. He sighed loudly.

"Since when did you get to be so sensible?" he muttered, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

Jimmy smiled. "Well, I guess everyone has their moments." he shrugged.

There came a light knock on the door, and they looked up to Chaos standing there with a bowl of soup in her hand.

"Room service!" She said cheerfully. "Looks like someone is feeling better." she said looking at Stoker.

He waved to her and smiled. "Eh, I've had worse days."

Jimmy excused himself , moving aside so Chaos could sit down. "I'll give you two a little alone time." he said.

A few hours later, Stoker came out of his room to find Jimmy sitting at an empty bar table, sorting through numerous piles of letters that were spread out in front of him. The look on the blonde-furred Mouse's face was one of strain and distress, and this made Stoker curious.

"I don't suppose that's fan mail, hmm?" he asked softly, hobbling towards his friend, his legs still stiff and sore.

Jimmy looked up at him, quick to put on a happy face. "Ha, don't I wish. But at least it's not letters asking for child support." he chuckled.

"You look worried." Stoker stated.

"Ha! Me? Why would I be worried? We're only on the brink of apocalypse! Don't be silly..." Jimmy laughed, but an anxious undertone tainted his jab.

Stoker peered over Jimmy's shoulders at the letters. The documents appeared very official, and some read "urgent" across the head.

The blonde mouse was quick to hide the from view. "It's nothing. Just some bills past due." he said evasively.

Stoker snatched one from the end of the table and glanced it over. It was from a Plutarkian who apparently showed interest in buying Jimmy's bar. Stoker's green eyes widened.

"They want to buy your property?" he demanded, looking at James with astonishment.

Jimmy stared blankly at his hands. "They're buying out every business in the area. It was just a matter of time before they came here." he said emotionlessly.

"When did you start getting these, Jim?" the chocolate-furred mouse demanded shifting through more letters, each increasingly urgent and...threatening.

"Shortly after you disappeared. I told them no, but they were quite insistent. Offered me money, any price I could possibly ask for the place. But I refused. And when they saw that money wasn't going to work, they began using threats." Jimmy replied, gathering up the mess and dumping it into a trash can.

"They're sending someone over this evening to negotiate the deal." He added with mirth in his voice, though his face was still strained.

"You mean to bash your head in." Stoker stated.

"More or less." Jimmy shrugged.

Stoker tore up the letter and tossed it into the trash along with the rest of it. "You have to get your tail out of here, Jimmy. You've probably endangered yourself for being here as long as you have."

"That's not an option." Jimmy said, returning the trash can to it's place beside the bar and then began the menial task of scrubbing the counter as if nothing was wrong.

Stoker blinked. "What do you mean it's not an option? Don't you get it, Jimmy? They're coming to take this place apart with _you_ still in it!"

Jimmy shrugged. "Too bad for them, cause I'm not leaving." Jimmy answered.

Stoker folded his arms across his chest and stared at his friend. "And you think _I_'_m_ crazy?" he demanded.

"Actually the phrase I would use is irrational." Jimmy answered with a wink. "I'm well aware of what I am up against. I've been ready for it for sometime." He motioned Stoker to come around the bar. The dark-furred mouse watched as his friend pulled a key from the pocket of his apron and twisted it into a cabinet beneath the bar. The door popped open and Stoker looked in on a stock-pile of grenades, boxes of bullets, and a few hand-guns. The key piece was Jimmy's bazooka, which was loaded and ready as always.

"They want my bar, they're going to have to work for it." Jimmy said proudly.

"You're fucking insane, James Orion. Trying to take on a bunch of trained Plutarkian hit-men on your own." he replied, shaking his head. Jimmy sighed sadly.

Stoker reached into the cabinet and pulled out a nice semi-automatic and looked it over. "That's why you'll need me." he added.

Jimmy blinked. "What?" he asked.

"One mouse defending his turf is nuts. But two mice, heavily armed...that's what I call a party." Stoker grinned.

Jimmy beamed. "Ah man, this will be great! It'll just be like that old Earth movie...what was it called, The Alamo!" Jimmy said, slinging his arm around Stoker's shoulders.

"Jim, you know everyone died in that movie, right?" his friend asked.

"Oh, right. Ah it'll be a barrel of laughs anyway!" he giggled.

Axle sat beside his son, who was sitting huddled up in a little tin washtub, soaking in ice water.

"That was stupid, Throttle." Said Axle curtly as he pressed a damp wash cloth to his son's forehead. "I don't know what you're thinking. You could have been killed!"

"But dad..." Throttle began.

His father looked him in the eyes, "Son, these people aren't playing games. They _will_ kill you if they see fit."

"So what am I supposed to do? Let them think they're better? Let them control me? I am not a slave, Dad!" his son shouted back.

Axle grabbed his shoulders, "I am not going to see my oldest son shot down, do you hear me?" he cried, shaking him.

"Stoker wouldn't have let them do this! Stoker would have fought back!"

"_STOKER ISN'T HERE!_" Axle shouted, startling his son.

He sighed deeply and pulled Throttle tight against him and ran his fingers through his hair, "I know you're brave, son. I know. And you're right, no one has the right to treat someone else like this. But you have to understand, Throttle, that you are not invincible. Those people will hurt you in anyway that they can."

He took his son's face in his hands and looked him in the eyes, "But I also know you're very smart. And the smart thing to do right now is to lie low, do you understand? We'll find a way out of here, but not now."

Throttle's chin quivered and he nodded, biting back tears.

Axle ruffled his hair and smiled softly. "That's my boy."

The older Martian lifted his eyes to the ceiling. _"God help us."_


	8. Last Stand at Jimmy's Bar

Disclaimer: Still ain't getting any pay checks for this puppy.

This chapter heavily inspired by Stoker1439's "New Years Eve" fic. I figured since I was using the characters, I needed them to remain in character, and that included keeping their continuity. So yeah.

By the way, sorry about the rotten spacing, html really screws it up and I just don't have the time to go through and correct all of it.

Chapter 8: Last Stand at Jimmy's Bar

Dark had fallen, and still there was not so much as the smell of a Plutarkian in the vicinity of James Orion's bar.

The two friends, with the addition of Chaos, had lingered around the bar all day, acting strangely in the young female's opinion. When it finally came closing time, Jimmy approached her, grinning from one huge ear to the other.

"What is it, Jim?" she asked, expecting some disgusting comment involving a three-way.

Instead he hugged her and kissed her cheek. "Just saying goodnight." he answered. He handed her an envelope, as was his usual custom at the end of the night to pay her for her work.

Chaos examined it. "Jimmy, this is _way_ more than what I usually get...what's going on?" she asked.

"Eh, just a little extra. Why don't you go treat yourself, sweetheart? Go have some fun tonight and leave the boys to take care of the cleaning?" he offered sweetly.

Chaos smelled a big fat rat.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"Nothing. Just, you've been working so hard and I thought—" Jimmy began.

"You thought you were gonna trick me into getting out of here before you and Stoker have to take on the bad guys, is that it?"

Jimmy's cover was immediately blown. He stuttered. "Ha! What an imagination, that's a good one sweetie!"

Chaos shook her head. "Nice try, Orion. But I'm not going _anywhere_."

"Aw sweetie, you can't stay here. Things are gonna get...well it's just too dangerous." he insisted seriously. "I don't want you here when this all goes down."

"Too bad Orion." She shrugged with a smile. Jimmy turned exasperatedly to Stoker who had finished locking up for the night.

"Stoke, will you talk some sense into your girlfriend and tell her to get her hot little ass out of here?" he cried.

Stoker smirked at them both. "Already tried, Jim. There's no changing her mind."

Jimmy hung his head in defeat.

Chaos smiled and hugged the bartender. "Besides, honey, without me all you have is Stoker who's practically a cripple at the moment, and you who well...need I say more?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Stoker said.

"How much longer do you think we have?" Jimmy asked then as he turned off the open sign and shut down the lights in the bar, save for a few along the upstairs landing.

The distant rumble of a jeep and the twin dots of light coming from the road indicated they were now officially out of time.

"I think our party guests are trying to get the drop on us." Stoker said, licking his lips and loading his gun. The three headed swiftly and silently upstairs, taking their positions.

Downstairs, the Plutarkians had broken down the door and had made their way into the dark and empty bar room.

"Looks empty." Cheddar, the first Plutarkian to enter the room said. He was a pale blue color with a long dorsal fin atop his head that was shredded and ripped in several places. He was followed by another member of his squad, a short and extremely obese fish slightly greener in color named Swiss.

"Do you think they scattered before we got here?" he asked huskily.

The captain of the squad, a stately looking fist with a monocle entered the room behind them. "They're hiding somewhere in here, the cowards." he sneered.

The last member of the group, Colby, stepped into the room then, looking pale and nervous. He had been sent on this mission on a whim from command, and what at first seemed like a good opportunity to advance in ranks, now seemed like a very poor choice.

"How many do you think there are?" he asked, trying to keep his voice from cracking, as it always did when he was nervous.

"Not many, maybe three or four." Swiss answered. He looked to Monterey for instruction. The fish with the monocle grinned slyly.

"Two of you take the upper floors, we'll search down here. You know what to do if you find anyone." he said in a smooth yet acidic voice.

Colby and Cheddar moved to the upper floor while Swiss followed their captain through the darkened room.

Cheddar was the first up the stairs, Colby sulking behind. He knew the other fish was afraid, and while that didn't encourage him any, he felt sorry for the little tadpole. He himself had been on plenty of these missions, but Colby was still inexperienced, and if he didn't grow a spinal cord soon, would probably end up at a desk job, or just plain dead.

"This should be no problem right?" the fish behind him asked in a whisper. "I mean, it shouldn't be too hard to take them down if they are here right? I mean, they're just Mice...Mice are weak."

Cheddar figured Colby was either incredibly stupid or just trying his damndest not to piss himself in fear. Cheddar decided to give it to him straight.

"They fight like cornered animals, rookie. You ever _seen_ a cornered animal?"

Colby gulped loudly behind.

"Now don't go pissin' your drawers, kid. It's only a few of them. Shouldn't be much of a struggle. None at all if we play our cards right." he assured him.

They stopped in front of the first door they came to. It was open, and they could see it was empty. There were four more doors along the landing, and only two doors were closed. They approached the next one cautiously, Cheddar leaning in gun first. This room was also empty.

Cheddar took a steadying breath and moved as silently as his girth would allow him along the hall, to the third door.

He looked at Colby and gave him the signal to shoot when ready. The fat fish kicked the door ajar and leapt in, finger squeezing the trigger. The room contained a desk and a bed but no sign of living things.

The window in front was open and the night breeze whistled through the still room. Cheddar made a quick sweep of it, with Colby standing guard at the door. "Nothing." he said looking back at him.

"Maybe they really did leave." Colby said, feeling some relief at this. Cheddar did not appear as optimistic. "One room left up here. Come on."

The fourth door was locked, which Cheddar discovered because he had to kick it three times to break it open. Adrenaline was surging through his cold blood as he walked into the bedroom, knowing this one must contain at least one of the vermin. But at first glance the place was as empty as all the other rooms.

"The hell? Why lock an empty room?" Colby asked.

Cheddar's eyes wandered to the curiously ajar closet door. He smirked and moved forward, standing in the darkened opening. He leaned in, his hand testing the side of the wall to find the light switch.

He did not know he was standing back to back with Stoker, with only the thin wood of the closet door diving them. Stoker's eyes gleamed in the darkness and he grinned, holding his breath. The stupid fish had no idea what was coming.

An instant after Cheddar found the light switch, Stoker used all his weight to slam the door backwards on the Plutarkian, simultaneously smacking him in the face and catching his fat arm in the door frame.

Cheddar cried out in pain as he felt pain first across his face and then an even stronger pain in his forearm as it cracked under the force of the slamming door.

His broken arm made him lose his grip on his weapon which clattered to the closet floor. Stoker released it and landed a hard right between the man's two watery yellow eyes, sending him reeling cross-eyed backwards, sprawling across the floor next to the bed.

Colby jumped at this and lifted his gun when he suddenly felt a tight squeezing sensation around his fat neck. Jimmy had him in a strangle hold and was squeezing with all his might. Colby tried to get away from him, but damn the rodent was stronger than he had given credit for. The room and the other mouse at the end of it started to go hazy, and then dark, and then nothing.

Jimmy let the unconscious fish flop to the floor with a muffled thud.

"Well...that was ridiculously easy." Jimmy shrugged.

Stoker turned his eyes on the door. "There are more downstairs. Where's Chaos?" he asked.

Swiss and Monterey had throughly examined the bar room and found nothing. They turned their attention now to the kitchen and found it equally dark and silent.

"What a dump." Monterey muttered distastefully. Swiss moved towards the stoves and packed several plastic explosives under each and turned on the gas.

"That'll take care of that." he said, setting the timers on each for forty minutes.

From upstairs they heard the sounds of scuffling. "Looks like Cheddar and Colby found the owner and his friends." Swiss said.

"Lets go check on them, then. I want to get out of this rat hole as soon as possible." Monterey said tiredly. They turned to leave, when something caught his attention. The soft clunk of pots clanking together from across the room, where several long counters lead behind another wall that probably lead to the freezers.

Monterey smirked. "Looks like they missed one." he said. He nodded to Swiss, who move in immediately. He walked quickly towards the tables, checking underneath each with no sign of anyone.

He turned the corner and found a short, narrow corridor, lined with more counters covered with boxes that lead to a large latched door that was the freezer.

"Come out, come out wherever you are..." he purred, holding his weapon ready as he headed down the narrow hall. He glanced quickly to the right of him to admire a rack of knifes and thought unpleasantly of what one of those might feel like buried in his back.

In the middle of these thoughts, he did not see Chaos who was lying flat against the cold tile floor under one of the high counters that lined the wall, under the cover of the many boxes that Jimmy left lying around in the back room.

She watched with bated breath was she watched the fishes's shiny black boots move across the floor and come to stop just inches away from her. In her hand she held one of the very knives he was currently admiring along the wall.

She would never know the irony of what Swiss was thinking as she stretched out her hand and drove the blade deep into his foot.

Swiss howled as something ripped across his foot, severing flesh and muscle. He yelped loudly and reached for the offended appendage as Chaos launched herself from under the counter and continued her assault, this time slashing him across the knee of the same wounded leg.

Swiss cursed as his leg gave out and he dropped to his knees, firing blindly. He missed the girl twice and would have hit her a third time had Chaos not ripped her knife across his throat.

The blood spray caught Chaos in the face and she squealed in horror as Swiss fell to the ground making a gurgling sound. She had never killed anyone before, and she certainly had never seen anyone die at close range.

Her shaking hand dropped the knife and she turned to leave the room, only to find herself suddenly in a choke-hold.

The other Plutarkian regarded her with mild amusement as she tried to wriggle free, but this only made him squeeze her throat harder. He could snap her neck with the slightest move of his hand.

Monterey looked at Swiss bleeding all of the kitchen floor but his face remained emotionless. He looked back at Chaos, who was splattered with his comrades blood.

"My, my, my we are in trouble now, aren't we?" he sneered.

"Where's Chaos?" Stoker asked.

Jimmy peered behind him out onto the landing again. "Downstairs. We'd better go give her some back up." he motioned, shouldering his bazooka which he hidden behind the door.

Stoker stepped over the unconscious forms of Cheddar and Colby and made his way towards the stairs, ears perked, listening for the slightest sound of movement.

There was a soft clattering from the kitchen below them and they exchanged fearful looks. The two of them ran down the stairs, only to be met at the foot of them by Monterey, who had Chaos wrapped in one arm, a pistol in the other.

"Not another step if you please, gentlemen." he said smoothly.

Stoker and Jimmy froze.

"Drop her!" Stoker demanded, his own gun raised.

Monterey didn't look the least bit concerned by the Mouse's threat. In his left arm Chaos squirmed. "I'll snap her pretty little neck before you'd get a shot off." he said flatly.

Stoker's resolve wavered. He wasn't sure if the Plutarkian was bluffing him or not, but he wasn't prepared to take that risk.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"Your surrender." Monterey answered.

"Hmmm, no that doesn't work for me. How about, you let the girl go, and you and your guppies can leave in one piece?" Stoker replied.

Monterey squeezed Chaos's neck and she whimpered painfully. "She's very uncomfortable, gentlemen. I can kill her slowly or I can kill her quickly, either way it makes no difference to me."

He wasn't bluffing. Still there were two of them and only one of him. Stoker thought vaguely if he could distract him for only a moment he'd be able to take him down.

Behind him, Jimmy was reaching for plan B, which was a small handgun he kept in his back pocket. He was behind Stoker enough that the Plutarkian would not be able to see him reach for it, and he would not expect the shot to come from his direction anyway, with him shouldering his bazooka. His attention would be fixed on Stoker and that would give him the edge he needed.

A cold, clammy thing with a grip like iron suddenly twisted Jimmy's wrist and shoved him to the side, pressing him against the railing of the stairs.

Stoker turned his head to see that Colby was twisting Jimmy's arm behind his back only seconds before he saw Cheddar raise his good arm and beat him across the face with the butt of his gun. Stoker tumbled backwards and crashed to the bottom of the stairs flat on his back, unconscious.

"Bastard!" Jimmy shouted, wriggling in Colby's grasp.

"James Orion, I presume? Or would you prefer Jimmy?" Monterey asked as Colby marched the blonde-furred Mouse down the steps to stand in front of him. Jimmy's eyes went first to Chaos, who was still not out of danger, and Stoker was lying unmoving beside him.

"Yeah, you got me. You won." Jimmy sneered at him. "Let them go, they haven't done anything." he asked then.

Monterey did not look convinced. "They've done plenty." he said. "Go to the kitchen. Swiss is dead, get his tags and his weapon."

Cheddar did as he was told, still nursing his broken arm, leaving Colby standing there in shock. "What? What do you mean he's dead?" he demanded.

"My pretty little friend here slashed his throat." Monterey answered, not caring at all. He glanced at the bar. "I'm parched. How about a round before you die, Mr. Orion?" he asked.

"Fuck you and your mother!" Jimmy replied.

Colby flung him forward, causing Jimmy sprawl on all fours on the floor. "I'll kill you!" Colby shouted, lifting his gun and aiming at the back of Jimmy's head.

"Hold your fire, Colby." Monterey answered.

The youngest fish looked at him in shock. "But sir!" he cried.

"I said hold your fire you pathetic little piss-wad!" Monterey snapped. Colby's face flushed purple with rage.

Jimmy, on all fours in front of his attacker glanced at Stoker, who was lying beside him. He realized almost immediately that his friend was not genuinely unconscious, but playing possum. However, he was doing a damn good job of it at the moment. Jimmy suppressed a smile and looked up at Monterey.

"A man deserves a last drink, don't you think Mr. Orion?" he asked. Jimmy got obediently to his feet and walked over to the bar. Colby following close behind to see that he wasn't up to anything.

Cheddar returned from the kitchen then, holding Swiss's effects. He stood and watched as Jimmy grabbed three glasses from above the bar.

"Grab one for yourself, Mr. Orion. It would be rude to not have a drink with your guests." Monterey said. The captain took a seat at the closest table and forced Chaos to sit on the floor beside him like a dog. With one cold hand he kept a firm grip on the back of the woman's neck, ready to twist at any moment, but she could breathe freely now. He laid his own weapon idly on the table as Cheddar came over to join him, making a make-shift sling for himself out of his shredded sleeve.

Jimmy approached the table with the glasses in hand, filled with ruby wine. Monterey took it politely from the bartender's hand and raised it to him. "To our esteemed hosts and their quick demise." he said taking a long pull of it.

Cheddar drank some as well, but did not appear to like the taste of it. "Bah. Too sweet for my taste." He muttered.

Colby stared incredulously at them two of them. "I can't believe you! Swiss is dead and you're just sitting here!" he shouted.

Monterey looked at the whelp with irritation. "I'd advise you to watch your quick temper, boy." he hissed at him.

Cheddar stood up, tired of the bickering. "I'll take care of it, Colby." he said to his comrade and picked up his gun from the table and made his way over to where Stoker still laid unmoving.

"Coward! Shooting a man when he's down!" Chaos cried in protest.

Cheddar stood over Stoker, taking aim at his forehead. He looked up at Colby. "See, Colby? Nothing to it."

Stoker's eyes abruptly opened and his right leg landed hard in Cheddar's crotch, causing the Plutarkian to wheeze with sudden incredible pain. This pain was accompanied by a boot kick to his chin which sent his head snapping backwards and when Cheddar felt his neck brake, suddenly the pain between his legs ceased to exist.

The dead Plutarkian fell like a ton of bricks to the floor as Stoker rolled to the side without missing a beat and let off two shots, one which struck Colby in the shoulder and the other which took out Monterey's monocle and eye in one shot.

Monterey fell to the floor with a flop and Chaos scrambled off the floor and flung herself into Jimmy's arms as Colby crouched wounded on the floor.

Stoker got to his feet, smiling grimly. "_Bum, bum, bum...another one bites the dust."_ He hummed to himself.

Colby stared wide eyed at him, caught between fear and rage. He reached for his fallen weapon, but Jimmy stepped on his hand, making the youngest fish wince.

"Sit still, shrimp." he ordered him.

The young fish thought briefly how everything had gone so horribly wrong, and that his career was going to be cut tragically short when suddenly he remember something...if Swiss had made it to the kitchen, that means he was able to plant the bombs.

Colby's watery eyes darted across the wall to the clock positioned there. And he laughed hysterically.

"What in the hell...?" Chaos asked, still shakily clinging to Jimmy.

Colby looked up at them with wild eyes. "You're still dead!" he laughed hysterically.

Stoker's eyes widened at this statement. "A bomb!" he shouted, looking to his friends. He grabbed Colby by his throat. "You stinking little bastard, when does it go off!" he shouted, shaking him.

Colby laughed in his face. "Two minutes!"

Stoker dropped him and stared at Chaos and Jimmy. "HAUL TAIL!"

The three of them started running at top speed towards the door, leaving Colby to fend for himself. Half delirious the fish began to follow them.

However, he had lied. They had less than sixty seconds.

Stoker's feet hit the pavement just as the timer hit zero seconds...

BOOM!

The silence of the aftermath was complete. Nothing within a ten foot radius of what had once been Jimmy's bar moved. As to complement the stillness, a light snow began to fall, covering the charred surroundings.


	9. The End of Innocence

Chapter 9: The End of Innocence

The days past by in a haze of dirt, dust, pain, and labor. The days slowly began to blur together...and even then, things weren't so bad. The body does eventually adjust to physical strains, you learn to ignore the heat and the dust. You find comfort in the fact that you are alive, and with your family, and strangely enough the little things that bothered you before; it all seems so unimportant.

Modo, Throttle, Vinnie, Bingo, and Jessie sat near the fence, nibbling without appetite on some half-stale bread and oatmeal that was their basic diet. They sought to amuse themselves the only way they could think of:

"I spy with my little eye..." Vinnie said, glancing around the camp. "Something...orange-red."

"Gee, Vin', could it be the dirt?" Bingo sighed.

"Aw you guessed!" Vinnie cried.

"I'm bored." Modo yawned.

"Me too." Throttle answered.

"I'm so bored I could die!" Vinnie whined, flopping backward listlessly. His little sister sneered at him.

"Don't say things like that Vinnie! It could really happen!"

"Oh shut up, Jessica!" Vinnie snapped back.

"Hey!" Modo gasped, looking at them painfully. "Be nice to your sister, bro." he said looking sad. "She's all you got."

Vinnie, feeling ashamed, hugged Jessie apologetically.

"Hey, Throttle," Bingo said suddenly, tugging on the tan mouse's shirt sleeve. "Isn't that your mom?" she asked.

Throttle followed her gaze to see his mother, among many others, walking in a crowd towards the mine shaft door. It was unusual for them to heading to work at his hour, which made Throttle uneasy.

"Mom?" He called, getting up and heading towards her, but suddenly he was stopped in his tracks by a guard–a Rat–who barred his way.

"Stay back, son. You don't belong here." He said firmly but gently. Throttle looked at him anxiously and then past him as he watched his mother disappear into the mouth of the mine.

"But...my mom, I just– " he started to explain, but the Rat shook his head.

"Sorry son. Can't let you through. Go on now, you shouldn't be here." Throttle continued to stare at the mine. Something didn't feel right, something was very wrong here.

The Rat moved away from him, leaving the boy to stand there alone, when suddenly there was a loud banging, the sound of an explosion, and then huge clouds of smoke billowed out into the fields.

Throttle screamed and covered his face with his arms as a burst of hot, thick dust rushed at him, pletting him with small debris.

He looked up then as screams and shouts echoed around him as the camp was engulfed in Chaos. The guard who had stopped him before was staring in shock at the mine. "MOM!" Throttle screamed running forward.

The Rat reached to stop him. "Wait! Stop where you are! Don't go in there!" he called, but Throttle evaded his grip and ran full speed through he haze of smoke and ash.

Suddenly strong hands gripped him by the shoulders. "Throttle stop!"

The boy turned to see his father standing there. "Dad! Dad what happened!" he gasped.

"Where's your mother!" Axle asked his son frantically.

"She...she was in the mine!" he chocked.

"JEWEL!"

Throttle felt himself being pushed aside and then was alone once more in the fog of smoke. "Dad! DAD?" he cried, reaching out for his father but there was no one there to be found.

He found his way through the crowds of screaming Mice till he reached his father again. He flung his arms helpless around his father's arm, but he did not turn to see him.

"Dad, where's Mom?" he asked in a feeble, frightened voice.

Axle's hand trembled as he lifted it from his child's grasp and pulled him against him, stroking his hair. Throttle followed his father's gaze to an arm, covered in blood, protruding through the rocks and rubble of the mine opening. He recognized the twisted form only by the ring on her blood finger. It was his mother's hand.

With a tiny cry of grief Throttle buried his face in his father's side and began sobbing hysterically in shock.

No drums. No fanfare. No goodbyes or last words. One minute she had been there, and the next she was gone.

As Stoker regained consciousness, his eyes were having some trouble readjusting to the light before him. A gentle hand touched his own. He turned then, and found Chaos sitting next to him.

"Hey," she greeted. "You're awake, finally. I was starting to get worried."

"How long have I been out?"

"A couple of days in and out of consciousness," she answered.

Stoker looked at the young woman closely. "Are you serious?"

"Stoke, you got banged up pretty badly, and you weren't in the best shape to begin with. You needed rest, so you did."

He grunted and leaned back. "Wonderful." He began to look around, trying to figure out the layout of the room. It was fairly small, with a dresser and a desk. No windows. "Where are we? What happened?"

"After the bar exploded, Jimmy and I didn't have any place to go. Luckily, we still had Jimmy's jeep and you left your bike with us, so we packed it and you up and took off. This place belongs to that Lucas guys' cousin. It's a farm."

"Lovely," Stoker stated as he began to sit up–which was immediate halted dude to the terrible pain in his side.

"Easy! Easy!" Chaos shushed, lying him back down.

Stoker watched her fondly as she hovered over him, checking his hurts with care and precision. He smiled to himself, and when she noticed him watching her she looked at him curiously.

"What is it?" she asked.

He brushed his hand across her soft cheek. "Nothing." he said quietly.

Chaos held his hand in hers and smiled back at him as he laid there, and then leaned over and kissed him softly across the lips. Stoker returned the gesture lovingly and ran his free hand through her soft brown hair.

"You were really brave back there," she said when they pulled apart.

Stoker shrugged. "Brave, or maybe just stupid. I'm not sure which is which anymore." he admitted with a grin. "I'm sorry you got mixed up in that mess. It could have gone down badly." he added.

"Stoker, if I didn't want to be there, I would have left. But then what sort of friend would I be?" she asked.

Stoker nodded in understanding. "How's Jimmy doing?" he asked.

"Physically, he's fine. Mentally he's grieving the loss of his bar. Taking it pretty hard." she said.

Stoker nodded.

Evening was fast approaching and Throttle was a wreck. Axle wasn't much better, but he could keep his emotions in check. Since work had halted for the day, the pair had holed up inside their room.

Throttle was silent with shock and grief. His mother so abruptly and unceremoniously ripped from his life, without evening getting to say goodbye.

Axle knew he had to be strong for his children, he needed to be their rock now. It was difficult of course, how do you act brave and secure when the love of your life just died in an accident in a place she hated?

He placed a comforting hand on Throttle's shoulder, who looked up at him blankly. Axle managed a weak smile at him. Smoke started crying again then, and the father went to tend to him, leaving Throttle sitting on the bed.

"Damn it," Axle muttered, opening up their small cabinet. "Someone broke in here again and stole all the formula."

"What do we do now, then?"

It was the first time Throttle had spoken since he had stopped crying. Axle felt a glimmer of hope that Throttle could put aside his own remorse for a moment to think about the family.

"How about we take care of him?"

The two mice turned to find they were no longer alone in the room. Two Plutarkian officers stood in their doorway.

"What do you want?" Axle asked testily, holding the small boy closer in his arms.

"We understand that things are difficult for you right now, Mr. McCloud. We're here in your child's best interest. He'll be placed where he can get proper care and food."

"You're not taking my son away from me, you bastards." Axle warned, a dangerous look crossing his face. Throttle got up to stand next to his dad. He had already lost a parent today, he would be damned if he lost his brother.

"Mr. McCloud, you're being unreasonable. If you won't cooperate, I'm afraid I'll have to use force." the Plutarkian on the left answered.

Axle wouldn't be moved. "You'll take him over my cold dead body." he snarled.

The two officers moved in and Axle handed his smallest child to his oldest and attacked. Throttle backed into a corner as his dad grappled with the guard he had been speaking too moments before. Smoke was screaming in fear in his arms.

The Plutarkian looked beaten, but then pulled a dirty trick, catching Axle in the side with a taser. The big mouse howled in pain and crumpled to the floor, only to be clubbed on the back of the head with the officer's club.

Throttle moved to help, but was confronted by the remaining guard. "Give him up, son. Save yourself a world of trouble."

"NO!" Throttle shouted ducking under the man's grasp. He began to move towards the door, but the officer had grabbed hold of Smoke's tiny foot. The baby screamed.

Throttle jerked around, trying to break the man's grip, only to have the hilt of the Plutarkian's gun smack him across the forehead.

Then everything went black.


	10. Strength

Chapter 10: Strength

Stoker sat on a big couch, a fire roaring next to him as Chaos curled up against his body. Her head was resting on his chest and she was already fast alseep.

But Stoker's attention was fixated on a television program on the monitor before him. It was talking about the war.

_"It's been three weeks since the Plutarkians took control of Sentry City–which is key to keeping the Sand Raiders held up in their own territory. Sentry City Council and the Martian Senate signed an agreement that would allow the Plutarkians access to this and Hellfire City. But after four buildings were destroyed, the agreement seemed to be in question on the Plutarkians' side,"_ the anchorwoman said.

_"Less than a week later, the Plutarkians began to push the population of Martian Mice in 'shelters' located outside the city limits. In time, these 'shelters' became prison camps. President Dorlin claimed that this action constituted as an act of war and immediately launched a military movement against 'overly-aggressive' Plutarkian forces."_

Stoker sighed and clicked the monitor off. He snuggled against Chaos some more as the rain began to turn to snow outside the windows. The seasons were changing more rapidly than he'd like to admit.

"Stoker," came Lucas' voice from the foot of the long stairs.

The chocolate-furred mouse looked up at his friend, and noticed that his face was flushed and the papers he held in his hands were shaking ever so slightly.

"What is it?" he asked, stroking Chaos's hair absently.

"Well, remember you were telling me about the conspiracy that the Plutarkians are running with the government?" he asked. Stoker nodded.

Lucas shuffled his papers nervously. "Well I was doing a little research...there's this guy, General Moore? I learned that he's in charge of defense in this region. So I tapped alittle further into the guy's background, wondering why he didn't see fit to take the Martian citizens in protective custody after the attack on Hellfire..." He paused briefly. "I hacked into his bank account, and there was a huge deposit about two weeks ago. Way more than any military official of any rank would receive as a paycheck."

Stoker admired his friends endless hacking abilities, but found his news more than a little disturbing, if not entirely expected.

"He's being paid off." he said bluntly.

Lucas looked disheartened, and nodded grimly. "He's not the only one either. At least two dozen other Generals and eight out of ten Colonels are receiving huge deposits that either equal or exceed the amount of money Moore got."

Stoker tapped his fist to his mouth for a moment in thought, and then looked back at Lucas, who was still reeling from what he had learned. Their military, their last line of defense, had sold them out.

"Then we'll have to take matters into our own hands." he answered. "We'll free the camps ourselves."

As Throttle drifted back to consciousness, he could hear soothing voices all around him, coupled by soft, white lights.

"Easy there, kiddo, you'll be alright..." a warm, motherly voice told him.

Throttle's eyes tried to focus. "M-mom?" he muttered, his mouth dry and his lips sore.

There was a heavy female sight, followed by a grunt coming from...his father? "Dad?" asked Throttle. "Mom? I had the worst dream..."

"Shhh, rest easy, Throttle." the voice returned. "That's quite a big bump on your head."

Throttle nodded–or a least it felt like it–and closed his eyes. He didn't sleep, but felt his entire body drain and weaken–the return, stronger and a little more alive as the minutes ticked by.

The tan-furred Martian reopened his eyes and realized that the nightmare was indeed true. His mother didn't sit beside him–Modo's mother, Rose, did. Axle, his father, stood above her, with his bros to the side.

"Throttle," Axle said, "son...are you alright?"

Throttle began to sit up, rubbing his bandaged head. "Yeah, yeah I'm okay." he muttered. It all started to flood back then. His mother dying, Smoke being taken away. "Smoke! Dad, where's Smoke!"

He gasped.

Axle released a sad, small noise that resonated with Throttle as a whimper. "He...he's gone, son." Axle answered wearily.

Throttle's eyes grew wide. Not just at the news, but at the sight of his father. His face was bruised, and though bandaged, looked like it was bloodied. "Dad...Daddy?" the boy moaned. Tears began to bud...then streamed down his face. He fell against his father's chest. "Daddy...what's happening to our family?" he cried as everything crashed down on him. "Daddy! Make it stop!"

Axle had never heard such desperation. His own son was sobbing more now than ever in his life. Axle began to cry as well, holding his son. The only family he had left. "Throttle," he attempted as tears rolled down his face. "It'll be..." he tried again, but just stopped.

The two embraced, sobbing painfully.

Nothing–not anything–would be the same ever again.

A few hours passed, and the pair began to pull themselves together as much as they could. Axle and his son had to remain strong–stronger than ever–and they had to live for each other.

Work had yet to resume and the entire ca,p was beginning to wonder if it ever would. Apparently the collapse of the mine was cascade one, taking out several main tunnels along with it. What would happen now? What would become of them?

That afternoon, the head Plutarkian ordered everyone in the camp rounded up in the East Wing.

"As you know," the fat fish-like alien began, "there was an accident yesterday morning in the mines. Several Martians were killed and many of the other main tunnels were destroyed. Most work here will cease then, and many of the young men will be transferred out to a second camp in three days. Those young men will be..." The official began to read off names and Axle, Relena, and Rose all felt their hearts skip when they heard "Throttle McCloud", "Modo Maverick," and "Vincent Van Wham" would all be transferred away.

"The rest of you will remain. Females will continue with their assignments and males will dig out the bodies of the Martians that were crushed. All children will be taken for immediate transport to a second locations. That will occur in five days. Any resistance–" The Plutarkian paused and looked directly at Axle. "–and you will be executed on sight. Bare in mind, we only have you and your families best interest in mind," he continued with a sneer of satisfaction, "You will be given an identification number that will allow you to keep track of your children."

The Plutarkian then grinned widely, and almost insulting added, "See? We Plutarkians _do_ care about you."

Stoker drove with Jimmy down the long street, his eyes set on the small city before him. The snowy wind was in his face as they entered the city limits. He didn't stop until he reached the desired destination.

They approached a large brick building at the corner of the street, the local pub.

The two Mice entered the bar and found himself face-to-face with some of the toughest Martian hard-assess he had ever seen. The crowd ranged from bounty-hunters, common rough-necks and low-lifes, bikers, truckers and the occasional hooker.

It was perfect.

"Attention, gentlemen!" shouted the chocolate-furred mouse.

All eyes fell on Jimmy and Stoker. Dark and disturbing eyes. Eyes that made both Stoker and Jimmy take a step back.

Stoker cleared his throat and continued.

"I'm looking for some tough guys to help me in a difficult and dangerous mission. You'll be paid handsomely."

There were a few grumbles all across the room. One of the Martians looked up from the bark and after a quick drink turned to Stoker.

"What kinda mission?"

"We're going to liberate a Plutarkian Prison Camp."

There was a pause, and then laughter filled the bar. "That's funny!"

"No one will do that!"

"You're insane!"

Stoker sighed and felt his fur ruffled by all the jeers. Jimmy but a hand on his shoulder, "Come on, Stoke," he nudged. "Let's go home. Maybe there's someone we can talk to there."

The chocolate-furred mouse nodded solemnly. "Maybe you're right, Jim. Let's go." he surrendered. But just as he was about to reach the door, Stoker paused. "No."

Jimmy looked back at his friend. "Huh?"

"No. No, that's not how this work," he returned, turning around. "Alright people! Listen up!" he shouted back to the people at the bar. They all looked up at him now, a little surprised. "My wife Silverdawn and I married young. We had a daughter a year later named Cherry. We didn't have a lot of money, but we pulled together. I worked hard so my wife and daughter would have a good life.

"And then..."Stoker paused, a wave of unsteadiness entering his voice, "...and then I came home one night fifteen years ago. The door was open and I knew immediately that something was terribly wrong. I found my wife and daughter dead in a pool of blood. A few Plutarkian scouts had killed them–after robbing us of all the money we had in the house.

"The Plutarkians claimed diplomatic immunity and were therefore exempt from crimes committed on Mars. I never trusted them after that dark night...and people thought I was being judgmental and paranoid," Stoker continued, a feeling boiling in his chest. "But no–I was right! And we are war with the Plutarkians! The same Plutarkians that killed my wife and daughter! The same Plutarkians who are paying off Colonels and Generals and–for all I know–President Dorlin!

"These Plutarkians are paying their way to victory in this war!" Stoker yelled, his face turning red and his body shaking with the ferocity of his speech. "They're herding our own people into prison camps and enslaving and killing them! I have no money to offer you to help, because _they_ took it! Just like they'll take your money and your life and your DREAMS and BURN THEM and DESTROY THEM and RIP THEM AWAY FROM YOU! THE PLUTARKIANS MUST BE STOPPED OR YOU WILL BE NEXT!

"They will enslave your sons, rape your daughters, execute your wife and torture you! WE are the only hope for Mars! YOU AND ME! WHO WILL JOIN ME? WHO WILL BE MY BROTHER IN ARMS IN THIS WAR? WHO!"

Stoker felt his entire body heave and his heart thunder in his chest. For a brief second, there was no answer.

And then one man stood up. "I...they took my cousin last week. I will join you."

Stoker nodded slowly. "Thank you."

"Me too!"

"And me!"

"Count me in!"

In mere seconds, the entire crowd was on its feet, cheering and joining up with Stoker. Stoker looked to Jimmy–then jumped onto the nearest table.

"Yes! YES!" he yelled out. "YES! But I will tell you the truth–many of you will fall during this battle! But for everyone One of you that falls, TWO of them shall fall as well! Let's go then! Let us fight for freedom! We are the FREEDOM FIGHTERS!"


	11. Liberation

Chapter 11: Liberation

Axle stared at his son's face long and hard. Three days had come and gone far too quickly and the transport that was to take Throttle, Modo, and Vinnie away had just arrived.

"Dad..." sputtered Throttle.

Axle put his hand on his child's shoulder. "I know, son. But you don't have a choice. This might be best for you."

Axle had a bad feeling about things. With the mine shut down and all the young men being shipped out, that left only women and elderly men. Terrible thoughts entered Axle's mind that he struggled to push away. His antenna's suddenly twitched and Axle felt something in the air that told him SOMETHING was going to happen–good or bad, it wasn't known.

"Hang on, son," Axle said. He turned around and walked over to the cot that he had been sleeping on. He produced what looked like a pocket knife. "I've been hanging onto this since we got here. I want you to have it. Hide and keep it safe."

"Dad, I..."

"Throttle," Axle assured him, "It's okay, kid. I love you."

There was sudden knock on the door and Throttle hid the knife in the back pocket of his jeans. "Come in," Axle addressed.

The door opened and in came Modo, Vinnie, Jessie and Bingo. "The transport is here. They said we've only got twenty minutes to board."

Modo stood in front of his mother, who was holding seven-year-old Rimfire's hand. "Oh, sweetie," she spoke reaching for her only son. "Please be careful. Please. I already your niece and I don't want to lose you."

"I'll see you again. And sis'll come back too. I promise, Mama."

"I love you, Modo." she cried, holding the boy.

"I love you too, " Modo replied, tears dripping across his cheeks. He then rubbed Rimfire's hair and kissed the boy's forehead. "Take care, Rimmie."

Vinnie looked to his mother, who was barely the woman he knew. Relena had gone from bitch and lawyer to cold and slave. "Vincent," she stated. "Be careful. Don't do anything stupid."

"Yes, mom." Vinnie returned. "I..." he started but stopped. Relena was already looking away. He turned to his sister.

"Vinnie," she whimpered, reaching for her brother. "Please, please, please, come back alive!"

He nodded and held her tightly. "Don't worry, Jess'. We'll see each other soon, I promise."

Axle and Throttle held onto each other for the longest time–longer than any others. "Take care of yourself, son." Axle told Throttle.

"I will, Dad." Throttle answered back. "Dad...am I goin–"

Axle pulled away from him. "Yes, Throttle. You'll see me again. I swear."

He kissed his child's forehead and whispered into his ear. "I'll always be with you, my son. Always." He laid his hand on Throttle's heart. "Always."

Bingo grabbed hold of all three of them, then, right before they boarded, "You bros take care of yourselves, and each other!" she sobbed.

"You too, bro." came Vinnie's reply.

"And don't worry, squirt," Modo said as they started aboard. "The Biker Mice from Mars will be back together soon."

And with a few more heart wrenching goodbyes, the transport, four heavily armored cars, each patrolled by three Rats, were loaded up and pulled away from the gates and sped off along the once-fertile ground.

"Alright!" shouted one Plutarkian that had been overseeing the transfer. "Back to work, you mongrels!"

Axle stayed just a second longer to watch the final truck disappear from view. Fear started to creep into his mind again of what was to happen to him and those left behind.

_To this world I am unimportant_

_Just because I have nothing to give._

_So you call this your free country_

_Tell me why I costs so much to live_

_Tell me why._

The afternoon hours were starting to creep along slowly and the sun was balzing downwards. As was no surprise to Axle, the snow would be melting and this whole region of Mars was due for a warm, almost-summer-like condition for a few weeks as the last of fall died and winter began.

His antenna buzzed and tinkled, telling him that something out there was happening. There seemed to be a strange electricity in the air that had the makings of something big.

Axle gazed over at the workshop, where the girls were currenly sewing Plutarkian uniforms and other whatnots. He had to watch over those girls–Bingo and Jessiee–because he knew that this could all get messy very soon. The Plutarkians might find need for...enjoyment.

A feeling like fire was burning inside of Axle as he picked up a hammer and smashed a large rock. All around him, other, older Martian males did the same. Anyone over twenty-five had been left here to do manual labor–or so they say.

The fire-like feeling burned further as thoughts of all the liberties he and his family had lost filled his mind. His wife was in a body bag, probably being burned up with other bodies instead of laid to rest in a casket back home. His youngest son was taken from him, already sickly and underweight. His oldest son was transferred away, most likely to work until his...death.

"No," Axle found himself saying all of the sudden.

_This world can turn me down_

_But I won't turn away, oh no_

_I won't turn around._

"NO!" he shouted, throwing the hammer. "NO MORE!"

The fire that had been building within in his chest leapt and burned, causing his blood to boil and his entire body to become infuriated. Others looked on as the Sand Raider in charge of the labor line walked up and stared at him.

"Get back to work."

Axle squinted. He had enough of this. "Make me." he challenged.

The Dog pulled out his whip and was about to snap it across Axle's face–when Axle yanked the large hammer he had been using and spun around. The hammer connected with the Dog's face, sending blood, teeth and a long howl of pain into the air.

The brown-furred dog fell to the ground. Axle felt something ignite and he was shocked to find that it felt GOOD.

"Put the hammer down!" a shouted a pair of Plutarkians, apporaching with lazors training oh him.

The tan-furred mouse released a sigh and prepared for the end. _At least I'm going to see my wife again..._he thought to himself as the Plutarkians took aim.

At that moment, there was what sounded like a huge explosion coming from the east fence. And then the sound of motorcycles and jeeps roaring...

"What the fuck!" yelped on the Plutarkians.

_All my work and endless measures_

_Never seem to get me very far_

_Walk a mile just to move an inch now_

_Even though I'm trying so damn hard_

_I'm trying so hard._

Stoker rode in on his motorcycle, holding two lazor blasters and letting them fire off at nearby guards. Other Martians followed him as the fence collapsed. He smiled to himself, more than happy that one of the seventy-eight people he and Lucas recruited owned a Weapon Depot.

"Thank God for Bob McBoob," Stoker whispered to himself. As Plutarkians began to open fire, he shouted out orders. "Lucas! Take care of the Prisoners in the yards! Jimmy! Get those in the workshops and get the out of there! Give them weapons and keep everyone safe!"

The group broke int three parts and sped through the Prison Camp.

_This world can turn me down_

_But I won't turn away_

_And I won't duck and run_

_Cause I'm not built that way._

_When everything is gone there is nothing left to fear._

_The world cannot bring me down_

_No cause I am already here, oh no!_

Lucas smiled when he saw that most of the prisoners were already in revolt, kicking and punching their oppressors. He grabbed hold of his lazor pistol and shot at the chains that were keeping them locked together.

"Ride free, citizens!" he yelled to them.

There was a roar from the crowd and they picked up their dead keepers weapons and followed Lucas out of the work yards and through the shattered fences, towards the heart of the camp at the North Wing, where Stoker was attacking.

"For Mars!" shouted Axle running up from behind Lucas and meeting up first with the rest of the Freedom Fighters.

"FOR MARS!" came the reply.

_I won't duck and run_

_I won't duck and run_

_I won't duck and run_

_No I pass away._

Colby took one look at Stoker and gasped. "No...no, he can't find me here...he can't!

He stammered, then ran off towards the nearest escape vehicle. He hopped in and took off for the nearest exit and rushed towards safety.

No one really noticed. The remaining Plutarkians and Sand Raiders were too busy fighting off the Freedom Fighters. With the kids freed, Jimmy, Chaos and contingent of Freedom Fighters kept them safe from their enemies.

Stoker smiled. So far, their casualties were light and the Plutarkians were in retreat. But there was something else. "Cover me," he said to Lucas as he rode towards the main compound.

_This world can turn me down_

_But I won't run away_

_I won't duck and run,_

_Cause I'm not built that way_

_When everything is gone_

_There is nothing left to fear_

_This world cannot bring me down_

_No cause I'm already here._

Stoker drove up the stairs that a few weeks ago he had been dragged up. His motorcycle tore through the hallways–until finally reaching the office of the Prison Camp's commander. The same one who ordered his beatings and the same one that Stoker had spat on.

The chocolate-furred mouse stormed into the office on his motorcycle like a beast rising from the pits. The Plutarkians's jaw dropped and he reached for his lazor–which Stoker immediately shot out of his hand. He stared at the mouse in utter fear and astonishment.

"What do you want, anything, just name it!" he sputtered.

Stoker snarled angrily. "You can't bribe me, you son-of-a-bitch." he warned.

"Alright then, but please, please don't hurt me..." the fish begged for his life, his mutliple chins quivering as perspiration ran down his cheeks.

Stoker had had enough of his cowardly whine, and pushed the barrel of his gun into his mewling mouth. "You'll be quiet now, or I'll make you eat this, understand?" he hissed. "I should kill you, open a nice big hole in the back of your skull for what you've done here. But I have a better idea, so you'd better shut your mouth before I change my mind."

The Plutarkian nodded complacently, tears budding in his yellow eyes.

"Turn on your vidcom, and get me a link to the top of your command. Now."

_This world can turn me down_

_But I won't turn away._

_And I won't duck and run_

_Cause I'm not built that way._

In space–in orbit above Mars–the Plutarkian Command Carrier had just begun to receive word of the troubles in Hellfire City Prison Camp. High Chairman Camembert, who was visiting for a few days, stood on the bridge of the Command Carrier with Stilton as transmissions seeped through.

And then...

"Sirs," said one man abruptly, "we're receiving word from the prison camp. It's coming in on a Plutarkian secured channel."

"Finally," Camembert muttered. "I've been waiting for some sort of word from–"

Stilton wondered what had interrupted his leader's sentence, but when he saw the screen, he wondered no more.

_"Greetings Plutarkian fat-asses! My name is Stoker BlackRuby. I freed your prison camp. I killed your troops and your allies. I just thought I'd let you know that I will not stop fighting you and your evil until all of Mars is free."_

"Who are you!" demanded Stilton. "Army?"

Stoker laughed. "_Oh no! We aren't Army! We're the Freedom Fighters and we're here to free Mars!"_

_When everything is gone_

_There is nothing left to fear_

_This world cannot bring me down_

_No cause I am already here_.


	12. Breaking Bonds

Hey Biker Buddies! This is the last chapter of the first part of our saga! So let me know what you think. Will be posting Part two in about a week or so, so enjoy this for now. Ride Free Citizens!

Chapter 12: Breaking the Bonds

The transport wagons, huge rolling mechanical monsters resembling a cross between a tank and a paddy-wagon, rumbled across the rough off-road terrain towards their next destination. The Mice huddled inside them, sat in fear and despairing silence that no one broke.

Throttle, Modo, and Vinnie sat huddled together between dozens of other young men like themselves, all silent and fearful. The air inside the wagon was stifling and full of the smell of body odor and the stale stench of Plutarkians. It was only the chill in the air that kept them comfortable enough in such close quarters.

With Throttle and Vincent on either side of him, his arms slung around the pair, Modo sat with his back against the rattling metal door that was latched shut with several chains. Through a small space between the door the grey furred mouse watched the country side go by in quick succession. Snow was falling outside now, soft and silent upon the ground. Modo sighed as he wondered if he would ever see his family again. "We have to get out of here." he said, his voice only a little above a whisper.

Vinnie's ears twitched at this and he looked up at his large friend. "How? We're moving a steady forty-miles an hour, there are armed guards watching...suppossin' we survive the jump and don't get shot, what do you suppose we do with these?" he asked bitterly, lifted his right ankle and shaking it to hear the clink of the shackles that bound he, Throttle, and Modo together.

Without saying a word, Throttle pulled from the inside of his boot the knife his father had given him. He flashed it discreetly at his friends and then leaned forward and began working the tip of it into the lock of the chain.

Each of the captive Martians were chained in groups of three, and so the locks were set. If Throttle could separate each joint from each other, they would have at least a little freedom of movement.

Meanwhile, Modo's tail slithered through the thin crack of the door and began working on the latch of the door. And open door and loosened chains...that only left the guns to worry about.

They were going to get free. They were going to escape this one-way trip to what probably lead to a slaughter house. They would not be slaves again, even if it killed them, they were getting off this god-damn train...


End file.
